I am amazed at how tender my feelings are for this seemingly ordinary little place, how I wish I could go back for just one day and walk "upstreet" to the bookstore and the Rexall. I want to get dust on my shoes at the grammar school where we trudged outside every Flag Day to sing God Bless America as loud and proud as we could. I want to hear Miss Reilly from her front porch tell me not to walk near her boxwood hedges on my way to school. I want to open one of those milk pods and watch the fluffy white stars sail down an untouched hill until they can't be seen anymore.
For now, I will be at rapt attention online when my old neighbors and friends start waxing poetic about the long departed dentist who gave out colorful animal shaped erasers, the kind yet firm school principal we adored, and especially, when the subject turns to an outlandish looking water tank on skeletal legs that I know will stand in silent greeting whenever I can make it home again.