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.
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