This morning I heard Brue Springsteen’s My Hometown on the radio. It made me stop and get all weepy & nostalgic, which I think many Springsteen songs do for a lot of us. I’ve written a ton about my hometown, this place I grew up in, over at JamsBio. But it's been awhile.
Lately I've been thinking a lot about my hometown, maybe because my son turns 6 this weekend. Six years old. Wow. It truly goes by in a blink doesn’t it? This morning as I ran a couple of errands and saw the gray skies blanketing the foothills of my hometown, I felt my heart swell with love. Those foothills have surrounded me my entire life. And for as many of my teenage years that were spent plotting my ultimate escape of this boring little NorCal town, there have been even more years spent trying to stay here. As the economy continues to struggle so do we, but we keep fighting to stay here.
My dad was an air force brat. He was born in Germany and moved around constantly while he was growing up. When he had his own kids he decided that he would not do that to them. He wanted his kids to grow up in one place and one place only. So even when times were tough he and my mom managed to stay here. My dad would always find work even when times were tough and there was no work to be found. He managed to keep us grounded, to keep us in one place. And all these years later, I’m still here. And I can’t imagine raising my kids anywhere else.
Not too long ago my son and I were driving through downtown and he said to me, “Mom, I love our town.” I smiled and said to him, “Me too kiddo, me too.”