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| Graphic by Emily |
When things change so quickly in life, I find it hard to
anchor myself somewhere. Whether I’m tethering to a person, a place or a
memory, as I move faster, I get attached to less and less. But when I was
younger--when I had one home and only knew about seven people--that was when it was
easy to anchor myself in a familiar place.
One of my fondest memories from childhood is walking down
the main street in my grandparents’ town outside of Pittsburgh. The whole place
was time warped, as if it was frozen in the 1960s. Little shops lined the
streets, and people were so friendly. They would invite their friends over for
‘supper’ and sit on their porches and drink lemonade. Kids would play football
in the brick-covered streets, and teens were within walking distance to school every
morning. Even the writing on the sides of the buildings screamed ‘vintage’ as
the big, groovy letters on the bakery could only have been painted by a hippie
trying to make a buck.
This place was safe. When I think of childhood, I think of
these memories. I felt confident that nothing bad could happen to me in this
perfect little town. I also feel like I let down a pretty solid anchor there.
But what was truly heartbreaking was when the place I let my
anchor down in was gone forever. My grandparents passed away a few years ago,
and we stopped visiting their little town. As we would occasionally passed
through, I saw the place decay in just a few short years. The little stores I
loved so much had turned to graffitied buildings and boarded up shops. The
street corners that used to be filled with gossiping ladies and children with
ice cream cones had turned into hot spots for drug dealers. The fact that I lost
a great place to anchor myself left me floating at sea.
Though it’s still quite a blow to know that there is no way
I could ever go back to this place, I learned something every important. Things
will change, whether we’re around them or not. No matter how much heart we put
into an experience, no matter how strong the memory, it doesn’t mean something will
stay the same forever. We can’t anchor ourselves
in one place for too long.
As I grow up, I live in places far from where I grew up. Now,
when I want to go ‘home,’ I have to pack a suitcase. One place no longer has
everything for me. I need to keep moving to get what I want and what I need. Seeing my grandparent's home turn to a wasteland made me realize that I couldn’t hold onto it
forever.
What I can hold onto is that rush of feelings I get as a
memory is revived-- the thought of breaking fresh bread at the bakery, the
convenience store where gum only cost ten cents, a sneaky sip of caffeine from
the diner before 9AM --- that’s what will always be the same. The world
will change around us, but it’s comforting to know that we can latch onto the memories
that we hold most important. I anchor myself in these great memories I have
because I know that no matter how much the things I love can decay around me, I
will never have to watch a memory die.
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