Going Home

M-Bolinas Ridge2The town I grew up in has changed.  The stores have been replaced by trendy shops.  In place of simple restaurants, there are now fine dining establishments, and the town’s new residents are folks who know the difference.  They know which ones have the best food.  They appreciate the finer things.

But they don’t know the short cut to Mike’s house.  They didn’t play mud football on rainy days at Boyle Park or search for golf balls in the ditches at the muni course.  They didn’t help Gene, a little league coach and mailman, sort packages at Scout Hall when the post office needed the extra space over the holidays.  They didn’t build forts on the hills above our house.

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This scene is on a ridge not far from home.  I’m not sure the new folks know it’s there.  My dad’s ashes are spread nearby.  It seems like a nice spot to spend eternity – at least I hope it is.

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