Remembering from whence we came . . .

I am originally from Greenville, SC. When I lived there, it really meant very little to me. When I was a teen, I thought I owned the town. It was almost boring to be there. I never appreciated it fully until I moved my family to New Orleans in 1992. Suddenly, I missed that town a bunch and was VERY proud to be from there. I could not WAIT to go home and visit from New Orleans. It used to really aggravate my youth at Woodmere Baptist Church when I would talk about going home: They would look at me and say YOU ARE HOME! They were right!

When we moved to Florence, I liked being this close to Greenville. This close to home. Close enough, but not too close. I can get there in under three hours. I haven’t been near as many times as I should have.

Now I find that my city has changed drastically, and does so between each of my visits. Since my dad’s diagnosis of NPH, I visit more often now, and Greenville keeps changing. It is definitely NOT the city of my youth. And that is a good thing . . . At least it is growing and thriving. Once known as the Textile Center of the World, I always wondered if it would dry up as the textile plants closed down. Greenville found a way to reinvent itself and is not only surviving, but also growing.

I am happy about that, but I have also discovered another change. My home is Florence. When I am in Greenville, I now talk about home, and it is here! And I would not mind it being here for a long time.