When one starts on a journey it is important to have a destination in mind, and the best one is home. It is good to spend time away seeing what is happening in the rest of the world. You get the chance to see that not everything is like you or about you. Most of all, you learn to appreciate home.
I had no idea where this journey would lead when I started it in January of 2019. It has taught me much about myself and what I think of things. I have learned important things about traveling. Number one, have a plan. Know where you are going or what the purpose of going is.
By dissecting this thing called a journey, I was able to look at it from different aspects. Things like how you get there, what you take,who you take with you all affect the journey. Those type of things can make it memorable or disastrous.
I met people who don’t look like me or think like me. Sometimes my journey was about someone else.
I know now why I love home. Every home is different and usually caters to its residents. Hopefully it is a sanctuary where you find peace from the outside world. And it is dressed in love like painted walls. At the end of your journey, I hope you find yourself in a place that is full of hope, love, peace and joy.
As a kid, we did road trips all the time. They were not fun. But as I got older my sister and I did road trips and they were fun.
This past week in my writing class we read Joe Brainard’s I Remember. It gave me a great many thoughts and send me down memory lane.
I remember strawberry soda, winos, and the Jackson Five playing on the jukebox.
I remember read meat and yellow meat watermelons that grew in Ms. Paramore’s garden.
I remember tea cakes and pickles from Ms. Tiny
I remember Ms. Fannie Mar watched everything, doing laundry and making her dinner
I remember playing in her grass because it was the best grass in the whole neighborhood
I remember when my dad build a fence around our yard, even though there was a still scary alley with overgrown weeds we could cut through to get to the next street.
I remember playing kickball in the street, using different pieces of trash for bases and stopping when cars came, playing till dark and sweating profusely cause we were professionals
I remember riding my bike up and down the hills (how did we have little hills in the flattest part of Texas) I am afraid only the garbage man knows.
I remember playing on the church ground and when that little boy jumped off the outside stairs because he thought he would fly. He didn’t.
I remember when there was a meeting at the church and old people and the young argued.
I remembered when I couldn’t go outside to play on Sunday’s until church was over and when my mother used to send me to church with Ms. Fannie Mae who went to the church with the old old people. Ms. Robelow taught Sunday school.
I remember when the Nazarenes came to teach vacation bible school in the summer
I remember accepting Jesus into my heart, it changed everything and being stumped because it didn’t fell the way I thought it would feel. I expected an explosion, not a whisper.