(Almost A) Native

I grew up in a very small, very tight-knit community about an hour and a half from where I live now. I knew just about everyone, knew the names and locations of every little neighborhood, road, and area within a 20-mile radius.

I went to college far enough away from home that it felt away, but close enough that I could visit home just about any time I wanted without having to make plans. I’ve always loved West Virginia, and honestly always wanted to stay here after I graduated from college. But I knew that for the career I wanted to pursue, I would most likely never live back “home” in my little hometown again.

So when I met my (now) husband I was surprised that, even though he had gone even farther away than I had to college, he had always wanted to move right back home. Even to the very road where he had grown up. So many people I knew from high school had such a strong “I-can’t-wait-to-get-out-of-here” attitude, I found someone wanting to live in the same community where they had grown up, well, strange. Fortunately, I really liked his little community. The land here is beautiful, the people friendly, and while our location is pretty rural, we’re only 10 minutes from the local mall and 25 minutes from the nearest large (for WV) town.

We bought a piece of property next to where my in-laws lived, which – despite how it may sound to some people with less fortunate in-law relationships – has been absolutely wonderful. I have lived in this community for eight years now, and while I don’t have the familiarity that comes with the place where I spent my formative years, I’m getting to know the place pretty well.

On Wednesday, I had gone out early to run some errands with the kids. I actually made a wrong turn (some days I’m a little scatterbrained… just some days) and had to turn around. So while I was sitting at a stop sign at an intersection on our road, a nice lady in a van pulled up beside me and rolled down her window. She said she was looking for a certain meat processing plant. (I told you it’s rural here. And it’s deer season. What can I say.) She had left her GPS at home, and knew she was close, but couldn’t remember which way to turn.

I had to stop for just a second and make sure I was telling her the correct way to go because it just so happens there are two meat processing plants within a couple miles from our house. (Locally they are referred to as slaughterhouses, which I can barely type much less say. Not that meat processing plant sounds that much better. I think I’ll eat beans for dinner now, thank you.) I gave her the directions, and realized after she pulled out that not only did I know there were two of such places near our house, but I knew the names of both and how to get to them.

This doesn’t sound like much, I realize. But I did smile a little as the lady pulled off knowing that slowly but surely, this little community is becoming home.