why the closing of a grocery store has me reflecting on my past

 

 

I never thought I would move back to my hometown as an adult to live and raise my family. And yet here I am. It's not that I don't want to live here, Overland Park is a great place to have a family. But my immediate family never lived close to our extended family, so I had no expectation of doing the same when I had a family of my own. 

Moving back to the town you grew up in is kind of weird. There are a lot of serious perks, like not having to learn your way around. But the city is different than I remember it being. I am different than I was when I last lived here. We've both changed a bit, mostly for the better. But there is a difference.



You know how it is weird to visit your high school for the first time after you graduated? The last time you were there (as a student) you had outgrown the place. You felt so grown up when you left, ready to move on to the next stage of life. And then you come back to visit after a year at college or time in the "real world" and the buildings seem smaller and all the freshman look like babies. That is kind of what it is like to move back to your hometown.

When I left I was ready to leave. No hard feelings, but I was ready to see what life was like outside of the Sunflower State. So I left, went to school, got married and then less than two weeks after I gave birth to my first baby, I came back. I go to places that I went to growing up (parks, churches, stores, libraries) and random memories come back. At first it was really weird and I didn't like it.  I'm being a bit dramatic, but some places feel haunted, for lack of a better word. Not haunted like I have regrets, but haunted like I have all these (mostly happy) memories that happened at different places with people that were once a big part of my life and now things are not the same. I feel pretty content with my life, but (at least for me) living where I grew up is a constant reminder that chapters of my life are over and people that I was once very close to are no longer a part of my life.  And I'm not really sure how I feel about that.

Anthony says that the way we deal with time is proof we are eternal beings. For example, as you go about your life the days can feel so long, but when you reflect over your life months and years feel so short.

Anyways, all of these thoughts have been swimming around in my mind this past week as a result of our neighborhood Hy-Vee (grocery store) relocating. I worked at Hy-Vee off and on over the course of about five years. I started working the occasional evening and weekend shift when I was in high school, and put in many hours over the summer while I was in college. Most of my time was spent in the Customer Service department, but I was also a cashier and courtesy clerk. I'm pretty good at bagging groceries and I've brought in carts from the parking lot in the middle of the summer, experiences I plan on using when my kids complain about how hard their lives are someday. Even though it is kind of embarrassing, I really loved working there. I enjoy interacting with people and I found my job quite rewarding. I made a ton of really good friends and have so many fond memories of my time there. I've enjoyed shopping there since we've moved back to the area. Even though a lot of my friends are no longer working there, I see a few familiar faces every time we shop.

The kids and I went and visited the new store and it is pretty awesome. In addition to the many samples we were served, the facility seems really nice. I'm sure I'll do a lot of shopping there, even though I'm going to have to relearn where everything is located. But there is a small part of me that feels sad. When I walk into this Hy-Vee my mind won't take a trip dowm memory lane. Which is different. But that's okay.