Home Sick and Homesick
Today I am home sick. The bug I have been frantically fending off at work has finally beat me into submission. It is not fun. It involves lots of bathroom runs and praying to the porceline gods. I have asked the gods repeatedly to make it stop, but for some reason my toilet must not be transmitting well.
I am sore all over. My muscles hurt when I move so I am saying "ow, ow, ow" all of the way to the cool water cleansing circular waste recepticle. My head hurts because of the dehydration I would imagine, and I wish that the exorcist in my stomach would just get out.
Me being sick really makes me miss my Mother, may she rest in peace. I was born in Long Beach, California, moved to Anchorage, Alaska, and ended up in my home town; a little town named Clinton, Illinois. My family moved there when I was four. When my Mom and Dad first moved to Clinton, their purpose was to build a bakery. Little did they know how it would change their lives.
BRB...
My Dad committed suicide when I was six. The reason is another blog entirely. My family found a conderable amount of support for our loss and the entire community seemed to circle around us. My mother was in some of the larger social circles to include ABWA, DeWitt County Geneological Society, and DeWitt County Historical Society to name a few. She took jobs to supplement the Social Security Checks at Eisner's (grocery store), The DeWitt County Observer, and the Clinton Daily Journal.
I guess newspaper was in the blood (even though I am adopted) because my sister is also big into journalism (fact is, she is a journalist) and I too was part of the newpaper scene in high school. Those were the days.
I miss Clinton. I miss the town square. I miss the old stores that have since closed. Mostly, I miss the community. The town keeps the memories close to the heart.
For instance, in high school, I was in a play called Oliver. I played the Artful Dodger. When I returned about 12 years later, I went to the bowling alley. This was really the first time I had returned to Clinton after moving away. While bowling what I consider the worst game I ever bowled, a woman came up to me after looking at me for a few minutes and said "Did you play in Oliver?"
Surprised that ANYONE would remember that play, I stated I was the Artful Dodger. She informed me that Oliver was the best play she had ever seen and she still remembers it like it was yesterday. "Wow, thank you." We talked a little longer and then I went back to my game.
Another instance was with my wife, the Queen. The Queen went to one of the cute antique shops in Clinton looking for anything to bring home. This was her first trip to Clinton and she found all of the antique shops a treasure. She walked in and was looking around and the shopkeeper started making small talk with my wife. Well, while my wife had accumulated about $100 worth of items the shopkeeper asked why she was visiting Clinton, my wife responded with "we are visiting my mother-in-law."
"Who is your mother-in-law?"
"BarbWarrior"
"Really?! You are little Johnny's wife?!" I'll tell ya what honey, you can take whatever you like, give me $20 and we will call it a day."
The Queen was truly shocked. She tried to pay more, but the shopkeeper insisted that it only be $20. Even my wife reaped the benefits of my growing up in a small town.
A good portion of the people who have left there, have moved back. Another portion never left Clinton. Some of my old friends have opened bars, are working for the newspaper, or took over the family business.
I miss Clinton. I moved away from Clinton to get out into the world and see and experience life. I couldn't wait to leave town. I have lived everywhere from Caribou, Maine to Ocean City, Maryland; Washington, DC to a suburb of Chicago, IL. I have experienced so much and now I am ready to experience the interaction of a small town. I am ready to slow down. I feel that my experiences can help a small town like Clinton. My problem is, now that I have done so well with my life, my cost of living exceeds the incomes from the small town jobs.
This finally brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Never give up on your dreams. I have lived most of my dreams and I am still moving in the right direction. Granted my goals have changed slightly as I have aged, but I still try to make every dream come true. I now dream of moving home. I understand that it may take another 22 years to get back to where I started, but I truly think it will happen.
Where is your home town?
Did you know...
John Kerry's hometown newspaper, the Lowell Sun, endorsed George W. Bush for president. Bush's hometown newspaper, the Lone Star Iconoclast, endorsed John Kerry for president.
I am sore all over. My muscles hurt when I move so I am saying "ow, ow, ow" all of the way to the cool water cleansing circular waste recepticle. My head hurts because of the dehydration I would imagine, and I wish that the exorcist in my stomach would just get out.
Me being sick really makes me miss my Mother, may she rest in peace. I was born in Long Beach, California, moved to Anchorage, Alaska, and ended up in my home town; a little town named Clinton, Illinois. My family moved there when I was four. When my Mom and Dad first moved to Clinton, their purpose was to build a bakery. Little did they know how it would change their lives.
BRB...
My Dad committed suicide when I was six. The reason is another blog entirely. My family found a conderable amount of support for our loss and the entire community seemed to circle around us. My mother was in some of the larger social circles to include ABWA, DeWitt County Geneological Society, and DeWitt County Historical Society to name a few. She took jobs to supplement the Social Security Checks at Eisner's (grocery store), The DeWitt County Observer, and the Clinton Daily Journal.
I guess newspaper was in the blood (even though I am adopted) because my sister is also big into journalism (fact is, she is a journalist) and I too was part of the newpaper scene in high school. Those were the days.
I miss Clinton. I miss the town square. I miss the old stores that have since closed. Mostly, I miss the community. The town keeps the memories close to the heart.
For instance, in high school, I was in a play called Oliver. I played the Artful Dodger. When I returned about 12 years later, I went to the bowling alley. This was really the first time I had returned to Clinton after moving away. While bowling what I consider the worst game I ever bowled, a woman came up to me after looking at me for a few minutes and said "Did you play in Oliver?"
Surprised that ANYONE would remember that play, I stated I was the Artful Dodger. She informed me that Oliver was the best play she had ever seen and she still remembers it like it was yesterday. "Wow, thank you." We talked a little longer and then I went back to my game.
Another instance was with my wife, the Queen. The Queen went to one of the cute antique shops in Clinton looking for anything to bring home. This was her first trip to Clinton and she found all of the antique shops a treasure. She walked in and was looking around and the shopkeeper started making small talk with my wife. Well, while my wife had accumulated about $100 worth of items the shopkeeper asked why she was visiting Clinton, my wife responded with "we are visiting my mother-in-law."
"Who is your mother-in-law?"
"BarbWarrior"
"Really?! You are little Johnny's wife?!" I'll tell ya what honey, you can take whatever you like, give me $20 and we will call it a day."
The Queen was truly shocked. She tried to pay more, but the shopkeeper insisted that it only be $20. Even my wife reaped the benefits of my growing up in a small town.
A good portion of the people who have left there, have moved back. Another portion never left Clinton. Some of my old friends have opened bars, are working for the newspaper, or took over the family business.
I miss Clinton. I moved away from Clinton to get out into the world and see and experience life. I couldn't wait to leave town. I have lived everywhere from Caribou, Maine to Ocean City, Maryland; Washington, DC to a suburb of Chicago, IL. I have experienced so much and now I am ready to experience the interaction of a small town. I am ready to slow down. I feel that my experiences can help a small town like Clinton. My problem is, now that I have done so well with my life, my cost of living exceeds the incomes from the small town jobs.
This finally brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Never give up on your dreams. I have lived most of my dreams and I am still moving in the right direction. Granted my goals have changed slightly as I have aged, but I still try to make every dream come true. I now dream of moving home. I understand that it may take another 22 years to get back to where I started, but I truly think it will happen.
Where is your home town?
Did you know...
John Kerry's hometown newspaper, the Lowell Sun, endorsed George W. Bush for president. Bush's hometown newspaper, the Lone Star Iconoclast, endorsed John Kerry for president.
Comments
Home -- I claim none; born in FL, moved to GA, OH, NE, MO, NV and now on OH... can't come up with enough growing up memories to find home; my children call KC,MO home
My husband was born in Santa Monica, then he grew up in Newport Beach. Afterwards, he moved to San Francisco to study and start the city life. He got tired of the hustle and bustle of the city. And bought a house in Fernley, NV. After 2 years and after getting married, he sold the house and we moved to Fallon, NV.
Where we are right now is a small town. I'd say you'll remember familiar faces.
Gerry still misses his hometown which is Newport beach. But he is just sad and disgusted that the Newport he grew up isn't the same now. God, the smog!
But I consider my city, Cebu as my hometown. I grow up being a city girl. Still, i know i'm a country girl by heart. I grab all the chance to go to my mom's hometown and live a provincial life. Sometimes, belonging to a well-respected family can be a hassle. People stares at you and just study you from split ends to hang nail! *lol*
This is a very nice entry, N8. But if you are going to think of returning home. I think the cost of living will still be affordable because small towns aren't that expensive as living in the city. ;o)
Oh, and I hope you feel better. Bathrooms don't offer frequent visitor programs! :oP
It's not good to feel so bad you hurt!
I miss my home town of Tacoma, Washington. It wasn't huge but it was home.
Meg
this article is lovely lookback on your history. blog more...
I have to remember to come over to this Blogger, and maybe even keep my own up.
My "hometown" is anywhere of five houses in between Detroit and here... Moving no further than 30 miles from the place of my birth means that, at least here in THIS town since 1967, a few people still do know me.
Some of them know me as the brainy teenager (how I got to be Valedictorian of my school, I have NO idea). Some of them know me from my college days - as the university I attended is five miles down the road, and I lived at home while I went there. And some of them just think they know me because my face is plastered on real estate ads, because name recognition is a good thing in real estate for getting more business.
I'm still to that stage where I'd like to GO somewhere and live where I'm anonymous.