Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Small town

You know why I love being from a small town?
Everyone knows your parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and probably share a few cousins with you.
You can't do ANYthing without your mom finding out. No changing into slutty clothes after you get somewhere, no smoking cigarettes on your way to school (I saw a high school kid doing this on my way to work today.)
Even if someone doesn't know your name, they know your face. I still hear "you must be Donnie's daughter, because you're put'near the spitting image of him.". And as much as no little girl wants to hear that she looks like her bearded dad, I knew if I did something wrong my dad would inevitably find out. He always told me before I left the house to Remember my last name. How could I forget, walking around with that tell tale inherited face and red hair he passed on to me? 
me in 1st grade. 

that's my dad on the left ,with his mom and brother. not sure what they were drinking
but they were sure pumped about it. (and yes my family is as country as this photo would lead you to believe).
dad's senior picture. pre-beard.

You can't make up excuses about where you were because the whole town knows your car, and where you live. They know there wasn't a wreck on your way to work because there are only 2 main roads. If you're "sick" you can't leave the house or the clerk at the gas station will tell her uncle who will tell his sister in law and your boss will most likely know you were playing hookie.

It may seem bothersome to some people but I love that the whole county is intricately intertwined through out the decades. I love that my mom finds out I'm home to visit before I get there because someone saw my car at the gas station. I love that when we had my Grandpa's funeral someone made us breakfast every morning and dropped it off on the kitchen table whether we were awake or not. I love that so many people came to share funny stories with us about Pappy (i.e. him picking them up by their belt loops and shirt collar and throwing them out of his bar.) I really love that people knew him for 80 years and they remembered the strong, healthy, I-will-kick-you-ass, Pappy, more than the stroke victim Pappy. I love that they think of him as  the Pap that back in the day would load all the neighborhood kids up in the back of his pick up and take them to football games. 

Accountability. I think its an important virtue we all need to have. And I am blessed that I grew up where I did and how I did.
Thank you Mom and Dad for making me be accountable. In life, in school, at church, to old ladies at the grocery store;  just in general.

1 comment:

Mr. Taylor and his Lady said...

what a beautiful post and beautiful images. thanks for reminding us about the importance of accountability!
xo TJ

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