Never Really Ends

In A Place to Grow, I tossed a few renderings on midwestern upbringing, which seemed to be a bit of a theme for me this trip. Each time we return to Iowa, I scoop up a new marble of reflection on the differences between big city life and what amounts to country rhythm, at least in comparison. I think we usually stick with what's familiar when offering a thumbs-up but, this time, I saw more pluses for the Heartland.

"Such as?" you say??

Well, the pace for one. Here, most everyone's gong or coming in lieu of just sitting - which is more what you schedule, less how you live. There, porches are for swings and fireflies; cutoffs and sweet tea - which you can actually order at a restaurant, by the way. Here, if you want sweet tea, they bring you the fountain stuff and direct you to the Sweet-n-Low on the table. Uh, not the same...at all.

Or how about the pride? Now and again, I'll catch a mention of a youth's big endeavor on the local midday news. Conversely, The Quad City Times has a section every Sunday announcing engagements, 25th wedding anniversaries, and weddings. Whole columns in the daily run are devoted to scholarship recipients and 4-H ribbon winners, proving that there really is something to gain by keeping it small - especially since, in a 450K populated city, those posts would be a newspaper in themselves.

And, pray, do not get me started on how much cheaper it is to live there: a gallon milk, dozen eggs, 1/2 gallon of ice cream, and a pound of fresh-sliced spiral ham (um, can I even get that at my deli counter?) for the same price as three boxes of cereal here? My wallet does a happy dance!

Small (or at least smaller) town living is still going strong: if big cities are the wings of industry and technology, small towns are the roots that got them there. And it's good to know impromptu drop-bys and fellas who still open all your doors, tipping their baseball caps still exist in our beloved midwest corners of the earth because, seriously, those are long-forgotten traditions in these necks of the woods.

I'm proud of midwestern roots and even prouder to know great people who still live there, farming for near povertous wages in a lifestyle few city folk would understand. Now, I love where I live, and the people here are their own kind of marvelous - but who says you can't go home? It's always there, reminding you of history and childhood, and the things that made you you.

So if it's the South, the North, the East or the West...or somewhere far and abroad... give a nod to your homeland, your very own heart-land, if you will: 

after all, home is where your story begins...and never really ends.