Just before Christmas, our family stopped by a local card shop and the clerk knew me, or I should say, knew my grandparents. Evidently she once worked for them at the truckstop....she got a little teary-eyed as she fondly remembered my grandmother. That's not the first time that's happened-folks who knew her, either as customers or employees have used saint, remarkable, loving, and so on to describe her. From my recollections, they were right in doing so.
I have to admit, it got me a little choked up and yearning for the old days at the truckstop. Those were good days, surrounded by good neighbors and friends. I've thought a lot about how to get that back-that it would be good for my kids to grow up in the same atmosphere of community. I could grill cook again, run a restaurant............a lot of guys who sign on for it because its a "dream" have no comprehension of what's involved. I do......and maybe that's what keeps me from pursuing it. Still, I miss it.