It was a beautiful sunny morning when I felt the urge to make the 45-minute drive to my hometown of Weaverville, North Carolina. It’s not a far jaunt from my current hometown of Waynesville, but I haven’t visited much since dad sold the house.
With the windows rolled down, a warm breeze floated through the car as one of my favorite bands, Mipso, massaged my eardrums. I was overwhelmed with a sense of longing to feel what I can only describe as “home.” Driving from one picturesque mountain town to another, I created an agenda in my mind that included my childhood home, former schools, and other favorite places, even the little house where I took piano lessons.
I drove to the building that once housed Skate-A-Around USA. Many of my adolescent memories involved this skating rink. It’s currently a Dickie’s Food Super Store, but that doesn’t matter. The soul of a place never dies. I walked inside and was transported back to 1988. The brick walls are the exact same. The bathrooms haven’t changed. I could still envision the food bar, arcade, DJ stand and skate rental area. The floor is the same old cement and the distinctive curvature of the back wall transported me to evenings of limbo competitions and couples skate.
My next stop was Lake Louise, where we used to congregate for prom pictures or late night shenanigans. By “shenanigans” I mean innocently getting food from McDonalds and sitting on swings in the dark while devouring french fries and milkshakes. I also hiked the little trail adjacent to the lake which leads to a portion of Reems Creek where my friends and I would frolic during the summer months.
En route to my childhood neighborhood, I drove by the house where Mrs. Hannah taught me how to play Send in the Clowns and Greensleeves on her baby grand. The next stop was Village Court, where we lived until I was 14. I yearned to walk into the backyard and see if the stones of our pet cemetery were still there.
At this point, my contacts were dried out from crying. The release of emotion felt good, but tears are not good for contacts, so I stopped by the Prescription Pad of Weaverville on Main Street to purchase some rewetting drops. The pharmacy was the post office when I was young and the original drug store of the town is now a popular bakery.
These were just a few of my adventures that day. It was special and nostalgic to stop by some of my old haunts. I also noticed a slew of new restaurants and businesses. One little establishment called Yellow Mug Coffee Lounge piqued my interest so I stopped for lunch. The place was alive with positive energy and I thought, “What a perfect addition to Weaverville.”
Driving around, I continued listening to Mipso. Their most recent album is called Book of Fools. The fourth song is titled “Broken Heart/Open Heart,” which includes these lyrics:
How do you keep on living
When someone you love dies?
It doesn’t get easy, it’s gonna stay hard
But a broken heart is an open heart
If you’re looking at the lucky ones
And you’re wondering why not you
You can trust that when it’s raining
It’s raining on them too
It doesn’t get easy, it’s gonna stay hard
But a broken heart is an open heart
The words reminded me that the cyclic grief I experience over my mom’s passing and the sadness of no longer having a physical home to visit have both broken and opened my heart. It’s been hard but has also given me wisdom I appreciate and honor.
Finally, since I was in the vicinity of Trader Joe’s, I did some grocery shopping. As I was walking out the door, I heard one patron say to another, “Everyone is struggling with something.” It felt like a serendipitous thing to overhear, especially considering my full-circle day. We are all struggling with something and in remembering that, we can fully open our hearts and let them feel compassion and love instead of comparison and loneliness.
—Susanna Shetley