Being on the edge of my departure, I have acquired a brand new perspective of "home," which I have discovered is a relative word for me (but that's material for another day's post). Knowing that I only have about two weeks left in this sleepy little southern Kentucky town leaves me nostalgic, reminiscent, and thankful.
In high school, I was anxious to identify my big opportunity to leave this town behind. I loved it then, and I love it even more now, but I knew I couldn't be one of the many people that just filed in line for their permanent place in this home space. I knew I needed to leave for at least a bit to gain enough perspective to make an actual decision to set up camp here. I dreamed of college or medical school in faraway places, but realized that where I needed to be wasn't so far away.
I ended up attending
WKU, positioned perfectly atop College Hill here in Bowling Green, and though I was in the same city limits I had always been in, my time as a Hilltopper introduced me to a whole new personality of my hometown. Things, places, and people I had always been surrounded by were all of a sudden new when I saw them through my imported friends' eyes, and I developed a new appreciation for BGKY. People came from near and far; I met people who also called Bowling Green home that I had never met before, and I met people who came here from places as faraway and different as New York and Florida. I became a tour guide of sorts, showing off the backroad shortcuts and small town glories of the area. South-central Kentucky had never seemed like such a point of pride.
I was lucky to have grown up here, and I know that now. On Smallhouse Road. At
Bowling Green High School. At the Homestead -- a high school hangout house turned brief college residence. At Covington Woods Park. In Downing University Center. In Cherry Hall. On the square. On College Street. At my parents' tailgating spot. At the Starbucks on Campbell Lane as a customer and a partner. At Total Fitness. In an English classroom at Warren Central High School. On almost every square inch of this place. And honestly, I'm still growing up here.
Lots of country singers have sung about it. A handful of esteemed Southern literature authors have written about it. Dorothy knew what she was talking about when she said, "There's no place like home." And
this guy's got it figured out, too: "Bowling Green, Kentucky - We live here. We are the exceptional people that make a bland, small town worth celebrating."
It is a small town. I do know people almost everywhere I go. But those extraordinary people in an otherwise ordinary place are what trademarked my home. We stretch the definition of expectation in a small Kentucky town. We have our own identity, our own brand. Am I gone for good when I go on this journey? Probably not. But I'm sure to miss every bit of it. Especially those extraordinary people.
A link for keeps.
The Best of My Old Kentucky Home:
