As I stand in line at Ingles–which there are no Ingles in Montana by the way. There are Town & Country Foods, Safeways, and Rosauers (someone will have to teach me to pronounce that one). I find it fascinating how different parts of the country all have different grocery stores. And completely off topic, but Montana has only TWO Bojangles in the whole state and they just opened their first Chick-Fil-A last year (which will have to be a weekend vacation as it is 4 hours and 50 minutes away!)
Anyway…. As I’m standing in line at Ingles, I’m having a conversation with myself. Does anyone else do that? So, I realize that I have been going to this same grocery store for years and I see the same people working there all the time. I feel bad that I don’t really “know” any of them. I know they recognize me (mainly because of Liam) and I tend to think to myself “does he only work when I come in or does he just work all the time?”
I end this conversation with myself to pay for my groceries thinking that the bag girl is just another person I recognize but never really talk to. As if to call me out, she looks at me and asks, “Do you recognize me?” This is a comment I always hate people asking. There is no good answer. You can’t say yes because you have no way to lie your way out. And you feel bad to say no as they clearly know who you are.
So I admit that she looks very familiar but I honestly can’t place where from. It turns out she was in the very first class I taught when I moved to Marion. I subbed for a fifth grade teacher on maternity for two months. I was taken aback for two reasons. One–I’ve never met a former student who is SEVENTEEN! Two–I can’t believe she recognized me as I only had her for two months.
Thinking about this encounter had me thinking on the way home. Marion has been my home longer than any other place I’ve ever called home. I had to do the math several times but it’s true. Marion–the place I practically begged Matt not to make me move to when we got married–has not only become home but where I’ve called home the longest (seven and a half years).
No wonder it’s hard to leave. Yes, there are many reasons. Lifelong friends have been made here. Memories have been made here. But this has truly become HOME. My seven years ago self would not believe what I am saying!
Where we’ve called home for 4 years.