Swimming upstream

 

I was born there, nearly 75 years ago, but I did not grow up there. My family moved back my senior year in high school and I couldn't wait to escape to college the next year.

That was the first of my conscious efforts to leave this place of my birth.

I loved coming back to visit my grandmother, but this is a sleepy little town. One of the summer attractions was sitting on the bleachers watching people swim at the public pool. During the school year the high school gym had a gallery above it so people could come and watch basketball games, graduations, and dances. People watching was the main attraction.

Years later I moved back two years after my divorce thinking I wanted to be around family, but families grow in different ways and I had nothing in common with mine anymore.

Now I am going back again. This time like the salmon swimming upstream for the last time; I really don't have a choice.

Except that my circumstances are different now. I am no longer looking for new adventures. Hope has pretty much left the room. Now I am looking for a peaceful way to end my life with dignity. Perhaps this new approach will yield some surprises. Maybe I have been selling this place short.

I am willing to try harder this time, to be thankful I can visit my parents in the cemetery, walk around the courthouse square for exercise, possibly meet some new people, or find a new passion.

So, maybe there is hope after all. It's just hiding behind a lot of old detritus.