I recently came across a blog that took both my head and my heart on a trip down memory lane, and gave me the inspiration and the swift kick in the rear, that I needed, to get back into the blogging world. It was a wonderful piece by Charlotte Alexander Strode entitled I Miss Kentucky Always, that paid homage and tribute to the place I will forever call home.
Nearly two years have come and gone since I went back to the Commonwealth of Kentucky, and over two decades since it has stopped being my home. However, it has been less than a minute since I reflected on the memories that I took with me when I left.
There is something about Kentucky that I love, always. Ask anyone who has had the fortune of living there, they will say the same. (It's hard to deny considering I have yet to go to a place in this country where I haven't come into contact with at least one member of the Big Blue Nation). I think that sometimes it's easy for people to become narcissistic about their home state, but it's easy to do. It's not only the place where you entered the universe, but often the creator of minutes and moments that make you the person who you are today. For me, it did many things. Things like thinking chili should always be served with noodles, knowing what real BBQ is, choosing March Madness over the BCS any day, and savoring that last bottle of Ale-8-One, because you don't know when another six pack will come your way. And sometimes, when you leave this place, you realize that your time spent there making memories was unselfishly taken for granted, until you no longer have the chance to make those memories again.
I often find myself missing the scenery. I miss looking at the beauty of the foothills of the mountains turning into rolling hills of Bluegrass, that will metaphorically always hold my footprints. I miss the elegance of a freshly bloomed Dogwood Tree and the wonder of the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers coming together in one big and beautiful magnificent stream.
There is also the privilege of four seasons and watching nature evolve over the course of time. I miss seeing the leaves on the trees fade into the fall, only to appear again in the spring. Simple reminders that there is always the possibility of a new beginning. I miss the cool summer nights, highlighted with the glow of fireflies and echoed with the sounds of the Ohio River, just as much as I miss the look of untouched snow on a cold winter day.
Making the memories and the time that I unselfishly took for granted may be what I miss most of all. I miss the feeling of the concrete under my heels as I ran along the banks of the river and the sound of a crackling fire at my grandparents at Christmas. I miss the fall festivals, picking fresh apples at the orchard, hay rides, chili cook offs, and the sound of "My Old Kentucky Home", from a group of people who really mean it.
Memories are often endearing and get us through life. I love the memories of Kentucky that I carry with me. I love the way they make me feel and the smile that they put on my face. Most of all, I love that they remind me that time is often a juxtaposition. Sometimes moving too fast. At other times, appearing not to move at all. Over time, these memories have given me moments of symmetry in an otherwise chaotic universe.
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