An hour's drive.
It's beautiful country, the Adirondacks, but for some reason, it doesn't feel good to me.
I wish I knew why.
I took a swing down the road where I used to live, and stopped at the house I owned for 20 years.
It was pretty depressing.
Grass has grown over the driveway, and the beautiful English garden I had in the front yard is nothing but overgrown weeds.
They don't live there full time, it is their "vacation" house.
I only drove down and turned around. I was kind of hoping someone would be home, to show me what they've done.
Unfortunately, it seems that they haven't done anything at all.
I loved this little house. I bought it for next to nothing, back in 1985. The siding, the windows, the roof, the skylights, the deck, the kitchen..........well, I could go on and on, but you get the picture. It needed everything when I bought it, and over the course of 20 years, we did everything.
It came with a mere acre and a half, and I bought 10 more acres adjacent to it.
This grassy area was ALL vegetable garden once, with asparagus and horseradish behind it.
Went to my friend's house. Roy made himself right at home.
The Mohican was coming down the lake, and blew its whistle to let everyone know it was stopping for a pickup.
Could you ever get tired of this view???
That's Prisoner's Island out there, I learned to water ski going around and around it.
I think I was 11.
I don't know why, but going back to the town where I grew up makes me miserable. It is like there are dark clouds over everything. I try to look at it objectively, but all I see is what 'was'. Who 'isn't'.
Maybe the people who live there don't see it, since it happens on a daily basis.
But when I go there, the change is so dramatic, in people and places, and things, that it hits me squarely between the eyes.
And it hurts.
We drove by Eichen's dock.
That's where we used to swim, my cousin Billy and I. Where we rough housed, and learned to swim, and took incredible risks.
They don't swim there anymore. And he is gone.
That's where my cousin D.D. lived, but he died of cancer, and his wife and kids moved away.
Every where I turn, a memory, a loss, a change.
It was too much.
Maybe I am getting maudlin in my old age. I wish I could have that old place back, just for a few minutes, where I could walk down the street, and see everything the way it was when I was a kid, cracks in the sidewalk, and all.
Everything changes. It is the only thing that we can really count on....change. And the thing that is the hardest to do.
Even my friend's beautiful house on the lake is soon to be a memory. It's for sale. She is moving already.
My sweet Roy, on the other hand, absorbs change like a sponge absorbs water!!!
I aspire to be like him.
Does anyone else miss that old hometown where they grew up? That one that is no more?