I was born and raised in Northern Georgia in a rural community. Here I lived for 21 years of life and will forever call it home. I drove through the countryside to visit a very dear family and was nearly brought to tears. I drove down a road and noted all the changes made to local businesses and how the flora has grown and the trees so green. I turn down another small street and pass the butcher's shop where momma used to buy the best meat and yeast rolls you've ever tasted. I keep going through the street lined with houses whose front yards contained evidence of children and many hours spent in the dirt planting flowers. I come to the four way stop and continue slowly, passing the cemetery where my sister and cousin are buried side-by-side.
There are so many memories down this road, such as when momma and I picked up our pastor because he had car trouble. My car overheating and waiting until daddy could pick me up. The house with the llamas. An old house where the nicest man used to live before he passed many years ago.
I pull into the driveway and blink back more tears, telling myself that I'm being silly, but glad to be home.
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