For now, I pray you might find yourself saying I belong here, as. it. is.
So, this morning, earlier than usual for me, I walked and jogged, jogged and walked. It wasn't pretty.
Forget the pain in the shins, forget the clumsy gait, forget that I forgot about crowns and gravel.
What made me bend my elbows, lengthen my stride and exercise my lungs?
Will it happen again?
Does it matter?
But enough about my exercise experience. I found myself enjoying my town.
The bus drivers waved, the town workers waved, the little girl walking to school alone said "hi". For many years my legs took me through the village. I peeked in shop windows, I hollered at inconsiderate drivers, I smelled the lilacs, I watched crossing guards keep children safe and I never gave it a thought.
This is my town. I belong here.
It doesn't matter if the bus driver of bus #45 remembers me as the woman greeting my grandson off the bus on Old Kirkland Ave. The town and village workers don't care if I run or walk, they are keeping my town tidy. The little girl walking to school trusted enough to return my "hi".
I've lived here longer than I've lived anywhere else. I don't know a lot of people (I like it like that). I'm not a member of any club or organization but I belong here. It may sound funny to you, but I finally feel at home.
I'm not a transplant, I belong here.
I'm not just someone's mother, someone's wife or someone's daughter in-law.
This is my town, where I've rooted, gotten a library card, started my running years, raised my family and waved to strangers. I walked to Agway yesterday to buy pumpkins seeds and the proprietors didn't care that my bills were sweaty from my walk.
I belong here.
Linked with Emily.