Memories of Home

Wyandotte, wonderful city.   Close my eyes and remember.   At night, lying in bed, hearing the boats greet each other, or trains blowing their whistles into the night.  Time of dime stores, drug stores with soda fountains, loop bus that went from Jefferson to Eureka to Fort to Goddard, around and around again.  Such fun it was to ride that bus into Downtown Wyandotte to shop with Mom.  My brother and I would look in the dimestore window while waiting for the bus to come to take us home.  Christmas was especially exciting, seeing toys in the window, and all the hustle and bustle amidst cold winter nights.  Living in one area your whole life, then moving is a challenge.  Even though the move is not that far away.  Somehow nothing compares to the place where you are from.  When you go back, look around, remember, you think, this is where I am from, this is my roots, where nowhere else in the world I felt more comfortable.  Then you realize, you never will.  For this is Home.