Visiting

Yesterday, I went for a drive with my dad and my son. My son spent the better part of the day asleep in the back of the car. My dad spent the day wandering through memories with me. These were memories of my childhood, both larger and smaller in the visiting.

I was talking with a friend about how places we were as children shrink in stature when we visit them again in adulthood. I was told I was wrong, but yesterday continued to prove my point. The schools I had attended all seemed smaller, with the exception of one. The houses in these small towns, the remnants of my memories, were much more tattered, much less grand, and occupied less space in my present than they did in my past. It was not something I would have done willingly, unless it was necessary.

When my mother died, a group of her former students - and my former classmates - mourned her loss, and shared the pain of her passing with our family. For three years in my childhood, my mother taught on a Hutterite colony. In the words of one of her former students, "Usually the impact of a teacher is measured in the number of years they teach at a school. Your mother was with us for three years, but she left an impression that lasts to this day."

Of all the places we visited yesterday, going back to the colony was the best part. I lived there during my grade six year, and was afforded opportunities few people are. We had a house that was slightly separate from the rest, but we played, went to school, and lived among the Hutterites, and I think it was the most wonderful experience. Seeing some of the boys I went to school with, all grown up, with families and responsibilities, it was amazing. I wonder if they are ever amazed by me, what I have accomplished. Paul Hofer, one of the men, took my picture of my grandbaby and stuck it in his wallet. I had only meant to show it to him, but I could not bear to ask for it back. They take such a pride in the pictures, and I can get another one.

Sometimes, going back is sad. Sometimes it is boring. And sometimes, if we are lucky, it is the best possible choice.