This week’s post is Part One of a series that will continue over the coming weeks. “What We See” is worth considering, whether it’s our town, our lives, or our churches. Stay tuned as we continue this conversation.
Imagine my surprise that day, walking around my hometown with my husband. As we talked, I realized we were experiencing two very different towns!
I grew up in Prairie City, Iowa, a town that was home to my parents since 1956 (and my mom even earlier). My family has roots here all the way back to 1868. I went through school in the Prairie City Community Schools. Growing up, my maternal grandmother, two aunts and uncles, several great aunts and uncles, countless church and family friends, and all my school chums lived in or around Prairie City.
When I walk or drive around town, I am navigating a landscape of spaces linked to my biography in rich and varied ways. I spent time in a lot of those houses! There’s the one on the square where Tara and Wendy lived, where we had many a 4-H meeting. Oh, here’s Bonnie’s house—Bonnie the first Mary Kay rep I knew—where I was sitting when I learned the still-observed rule to apply lotion only with upward strokes. Over there is the house where Joe grew up, and down the block I can see where dear Harold and Iloe welcomed us with such warmth. I wonder if that luscious apricot tree still stands in that back yard, dripping with summer warmth.
It’s a small town. You’d be surprised how many spots hold a part of my story.
For my husband Dan, walking around town is a completely different experience. He notices the uneven sidewalk, the handy gazebo and fire pit, and the ripe apples that barely register for me as I remember the dear Edna or brash Peggy who used to live there. He sees the old car taking up too much room in the yard, and the garden someone is trying to get started under all that shade. He wonders what got in the way of finishing that paint job, and whether there’s a better place for that tricycle that’s on the edge of the sidewalk. The overlay of history and relationship that colors every block for me is hidden, nonexistent for him. It’s just a collection of houses in one more small Iowa town.
The particularity of this experience of place is stunning to me. You and I don’t live in the same place, even if our yards are adjoining, and even if we both have lived in this town for decades. Still we will see it differently! The uniqueness of our experiences and relationships will affect where we have spent time and what associations we have with this home or that street. And we will remember the details with varying degrees of exactitude and intensity.
I’m thinking about this now as I drive through my hometown. And yours. Or wherever we find ourselves. Want me to show you what I see? What if we took the time to compare notes? Let’s!
Your comments brought back memories of my upbringing in a small town. It’s so true that people see very different things. I took my friend from NY to my small mid-west rural town/area and she kept worrying about how people got groceries, clothes, saw a doctor, etc. if they lived out “in the middle of no-where” instead of “in town”. Thanks for the reminder!!
Blessings!
Interesting reflection, Linda. Of course we see differently depending on what kind of “town” is part of our story! Great connection. Thanks for sharing.
I have become fascinated and curious about the stories of others and how each of those stories makes us who we are. We each have different stories yet may have similarities that can amaze us or such differences even though our stories are so similar. It makes me realize how unique each of us is and why we see the same things in such diverse perspectives. No two people are the same – each different in our own way. So what is “normal “?
Great reflection, Doug. I didn’t always know that everyone has a story. But that becomes more and more clear to me. We are enriched when we hear from one another how we got to this place, and this understanding. Our stories illuminate a lot of that. Thanks for joining the conversation!
We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.
Yes, Bill, that’s a great way to put it. Yet we don’t own that usually. If only we’d remember this when we’re looking around!