Homesick

I love Louisville. We have a good thing going here. Great friends, a good church. And it feels like home....sort of. It's a shallow feeling. My generation is so transient that to live somewhere even 10 years is a big deal.
My grandparents lived in the same spot on Concord road for more than 65 years. They lived in the small house until 1963 and then built a brick house next door. When you live somewhere for that long - people get to know you. In Louisville, I am Jenny Barham. Sometimes I may even be Spencer's wife. But in Nashville, I'm a one of the Rader children. And on really special occasions, I'm one of the Wallers. I'm one of Linda's girls. And that statement alone means that I will never ever want for the necessities in life. If I ever found myself penniless and alone then I would only need to find my way to Concord road and tell someone that I was one of Linda Waller's girls and James and Martha were my grandparents. I feel certain that I would have a bed and a warm meal. After spending two days at the funeral home, I'm convinced there is not a home in all of Franklin that did not in some way know the Wallers and therefore know me. Those are deep roots. Roots not likely to be found in our generation.