We all need a "special playground": A place where we can go and hang out, and people with whom we can have fun and get support when we need it. Whether it's brick-and-mortar, or just a virtual playground, we have to have it to survive. We may even have several playgrounds.
What happens when your favorite playground becomes unrecognizable? Or when you become unrecognizable there? Like walking into Cheers and nobody knows your name? Where you don't want to be the center of attention, but you would like to be acknowledged now and again.
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2 comments:
Honey, I totally understand
This one's easy: Birmingham.
Since "the other grandmother" passed away several years ago, the city and area has suddenly asserted its importance in my life. Their house ... the memories, the landmarks, the zoo, the back roads of nearby Walker County, and an old shopping mall that - in 1976 was brimming with life, but in 2006 awaits the business end of a wrecking ball - gave me so many memorable times.
Every time I see the TV towers and Vulcan atop Red Mountain, I get goosebumps and a warm feeling within. Even with decades of change, it still looks warmly familiar.
--Talmadge "Iron ore in my heart" Gleck
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