I could not wait to go to college when I was in high school. For me, I knew bigger and better things were waiting once I put some distance between myself and this county.
It’s amazing how much traveling and life experiences will reshape your perspective. Suddenly, Nashville was overcrowded and touristy instead of new and exciting. It began to feel too keeping up with the Joneses.
When songs like Josh Turner’s “Hometown Girl” and “The House That Built Me” by Miranda Lambert would play on the radio, I was a sobbing mess in my car. You know that saying in “Sweet Home Alabama” with Reese Witherspoon? The one where Jake tells Melanie, “You can’t have roots and wings, Mel,” well, that resonated with me and I determined I preferred roots.
Moving to Cookeville after graduation with my husband, Ross, improved things some. We bought a condo, plugged into church and the community, and I started grad school at TTU. Still, we never felt like we truly fit.
Sadly, Ross and I were shook by a series of family deaths in a short time. We lost my sister, Ross’ paternal grandfather, his maternal grandparents, and his uncle. We mourned and moved forward the best we could.
Two years later, we decided to buy and renovate his grandparents’ home. Why not? After all, we were already making the 45-minute commute to be with family on the regular. So here I am, willingly living in the place I once couldn’t wait to leave. I believe my love for McMinnville is best conveyed in a poem I wrote about myself in grad school.
Where I’m From
I am from frequently used coffee mugs, from silvery gray duct tape and fine-tipped Sharpie pens.
I am from the dust that accumulates on the cover of my antique Bible that smells of the dried rose petals concealed between its pages.
I am from the Queen Anne ’s Lace and Black-eyed Susans blanketing the fields of Northcutt Cove each summer.
I’m from early Christmas mornings and late family reunions at Armstrong Cemetery.
From a father I never knew and grandparents who loved me better.
I’m from praying before each meal and responding “Yes, Ma’am” and “No, Sir.”
I’m from “learn from your mistakes” and “don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.”
I’m from “streams of mercy never ceasing.”
I’m from a tiny Tennessee town boasting nurseries galore and the Barren Fork.
I’m from Grandma’s biscuits with molasses and pinto beans with corn bread.
From a young, handsome sailor, who once slept on a park bench and woke up missing one shoe.
I am from a beautiful cathedral quilt pieced together with colorful scraps of fabric by my grandma, great-grandmother, and great-aunts.
Despite its brokenness, I am from many generations of love.
Standard reporter Lacy Garrison can be reached at 473-2191.
