Every weekend my plan is generally the same. I plan to do nothing but the essential things that need doing and spend the rest of the time relaxing. For some reason, I have lost the ability to do nothing. I find things to do that take me away from relaxing and then I regret it the rest of the weekend.
This weekend was different. Sure, I still managed to find a distraction, but it was one I needed. On my way to the supermarket yesterday afternoon, I got the urge to go find the street I grew up on. I've been feeling very nostalgic again, probably because Mom is still heavy in my thoughts. The place I consider the house I grew up in is one I lived in from the time I was about 2 until 10. After that, my family moved around a lot before settling down in my mid teens. Driving up the old street was pretty sad. The first house on the street belonged to the Kelly family. There was a SOLD sign out front. Mr. Kelly passed away shortly before my Mom did. His wife passed away a few years ago and their son lives in western NY now. The house next door belonged to the Talberts. I recently reconnected with Nancy Talbert, who is about my brother's age. It was then that I found out that her brother Tommy, who was my age, passed away a couple of years ago. Next to their house was my old house. It's weird, but the house looks so small now. It was huge when I was growing up, but now it isn't. None of the houses on my old street are. It's funny how the eyes of a child and the eyes of an adult view things so differently.
I enjoyed the drive through my old town. It's been years since I've done it, but hopefully won't be before I do it again.