California
I got to visit my grandma over Labor Day weekend. She lives in a tiny town called El Mirage in California. There's a gas station and dirt roads out there. I just kept thinking about how much different my children are living than I was when I was a kid. This place is an entirely different world than my kids live in.
We grew up running around the desert well into the night. There were no street lights to let us know when to come in. We played hide and seek in what was essentially a junk yard. My cousin's yard was littered with broken down cars, campers and junk. We would hide inside or under the campers. My kids would look at that yard and say absolutely the F not. But we didn't know any different. While I couldn't imagine my kids growing up in that world, my childhood felt fun in those moments. Playing kickball in the desert with my cousins. Catching scorpions. Jumping out of the bed of a truck as my drunk uncle and dad sped around the open property. I'm sure we were in danger many times throughout my childhood and I would never dream of getting completely inebriated and then driving 60 mph and telling my kids to jump out the bed of a truck. But I'm glad my dad and uncle were dumb enough to do it. As a kid, it was just fun. We didn't know any better.
When I'm out there, I realize how much I miss it. I would never go back, but I love the memories of my grandma's house. I loved decorating her little mobile home at Christmas time. I love the smell of the sand when it's raining. I love looking through all the things my grandma has saved and collected over the years. She has kept every bank statement and check she has ever written. She's kept every scratch off ticket she's ever bought. She has so many old pictures and stories to tell us.
I love my grandma so much. I'm so happy I ended up in Georgia, but sad that I didn't get to spend more time with my grandma.
