Skip to main content

Small Town Living


I live in a small town, but it wasn’t always that way. I spent the first half of my life in busy Chicago with lots of people and waiting in long lines and hunting for parking spaces. Now I’m living in the center of Arizona in a small community just outside of Sedona. I never have to worry when someone sends my mail by mistake to my physical address instead of post office box because they know me personally and do not return it to sender. It’s comforting, too, to know the staff at the bank so personally. One of the gals bought a house from me and I love to hear to hear how much she likes it. On the way home yesterday, my husband and I attended the Grand Opening at the new Dollar Store just up the road from us. At the checkout, the clerk introduced herself to us and made us feel welcome. My husband, Tom, mentioned the good price of the dog food and said he’d be back tomorrow for more. With that she packed in a coupon. Upon leaving, we noticed that we only had one water container in our bag. We failed to purchase the second one still sitting on the counter and another man was ready to check out. So Tom said he’d get it later. And the clerk replied “get it tomorrow when you come back for the dog food.” This made me laugh. She paid attention; she cared! Do I miss the sea of people and the enthusiasm at museums or the skyscrapers along Lake Michigan? I do. I comfort myself with the beauty of mountains, rodeos, and extraordinary sunsets. It’s good to have experienced the best of both worlds!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Mom Fought the U.S. Post Office and Won

My mom embarrassed me years ago when she called our small town post office and complained about slow package delivery.   I gave the eulogy at mom ’ s memorial service, and I told the mortifying story at the chapel. Respectful laughter filled the room.  However, embarrassment doesn ’ t bother you when you ’ re dead in the grave and maybe that ’ s the lesson here today. Mom loved to send packages to me in Arizona.  She often mailed pencils, recipe clippings, bars of soap, cereal, odds and ends that were meaningful to her.  Mom never understood that her mailings to a hick town in the west take a heck of a lot longer than it does in Chicago.  I got umpteen phone calls from her before any shipment arrived and she would ask impatiently:  “ Did you get my package yet? ” It was about six years ago when retrieving my mail, Toni, my favorite clerk shouted to me across the room from the front desk, “Your mother called me yesterday.   She...
25 comments
Read more

A Memorial Day Reflection

  Memorial Day is always noteworthy for me and my girls.  Next Thursday marks the third year of missing their father, my husband. So many thoughts  run through my mind.  The journey of loss takes on various emotions.  The strongest feeling, at first, was emptiness.  In a split second, I would forget he departed forever.  I imagined things I needed to talk to him about when he got back home.  My mind is realistic now.  He's not coming back.  There will be no more times of sitting on the porch swing together on the front deck staring at the moon and the stars.  He would tell me all he knew about the majestic night sky. I have so much I wish I could tell him, like the excitement of seeing our oldest grandchild make a decision to follow Jesus and get baptized on Mother's Day!  And our little Amy, 11 years old, I wish he could have seen her on stage receiving her induction to the National Honor Society. Our daughters have their own ...
22 comments
Read more

A Veteran's Story

  I noticed Bill sitting in our local park where I walk.   He glanced my way just as I finished the last exercise walk song on my playlist.   He shouted and pointed to my car:   “Hey, is that your car with the Nam front license plate?   I stepped closer into the veranda where Bill sat on a picnic bench.   I noticed his Vietnam Vet cap and instantly I knew why I walked there that day.   The Marine Vet served during the 1960’s, the same time span as my husband.   Bill talked a lot about the war evoking my emotions from laughter to tears.   My South Vietnam front plate often prompts a conversation with a stranger and I’ve learned a deep respect for it over the years.   It is my way of listening to a veteran.   I enjoyed listening to Bill.   He made me laugh in spots but he made me cry as well.   Like when he talked about the sandwich lady.   “Do you ever eat at the sandwich shop in the gas station down the street...
26 comments
Read more