I Miss Home

For years I complained about my hometown.

Dawson Creek was too small, and I felt stifled and unable to be who I wanted to be. Every time I go back I begin to feel the same way about it.

When people ask where I'm from I generalize it as a 'Northern BC', and when asked for specifics provide a name of the above town 1/2 an hour away from what I call 'home'.

Tonight I stumbled across a blog where the author was making much mention of Dawson Creek and surrounding areas. After reading over it for awhile, I came across some pictures. The blog I was reading belonged to our next door neighbour on the acreage, who moved to Prince George a few years ago. The net is such a small world. I remember getting into a fight with my mom, and going over to her house to seek help. She made me tea, let me use the phone and allowed me to crash in her living room while I waited for my (super sweet, amazing, hero-like) boyfriend to drive all night from Peace River to calm hysterical me to something less than a fever bitch. Yeah, Mr. Roberts, you rock.. always did.

She obviously misses the area as much as I do. I shamelessly stole the pictures on this blog from her site because they reminded me so much of home. That school bus is the bus I took to school every day in high school (even grown adults still call the bus driver, 'Bus driver Bill') , the picture at the top is the road leading to Tomslake, BC, and the cream building in the background is where my youngest brother, Garhett, went to school.

They say home is where the heart is, and if that's true, mine lays just about halfway down a road that used to be called Krantz, but has in recent years been dubbed 188. Home is a big barn style house that we paid less than 100K for because it was only partially finished. Home incorporates a pile of dog kennels in the back yard, a little Pinto Arab horse named Friday who truly believes he is a dog, 2 Golden retrievers with a penchant for rolling in dead things and bringing them home and a rum-loving farmer neighbour who drives his tractor down the road in front of the house an absolute minimum of 4 times a day. Home reminds me of some of the most precious memories I have.

At some point in the next week I feel I have an obligation to go say goodbye to one of the most important things in my life -- my dog Reba is going to be put down. While I'm apprehensive about seeing my mom with all of the differences between us right now, I feel I owe it to Reba and all she's given me in my life to see her off. I don't want to go into DC, but I do sort of want to go home and feel my roots again.