A Day Exploring N. Manchester

I drove into N. Manchester to meet with two friends.  I used to be in a movie group here with five other women.  About once a month we would drive into Ft. Wayne and go to dinner and see a movie.  We also took a couple trips up into Michigan and stayed at one of the women's family cottage next to Lake Michigan.  Right before I moved to California we took a final trip together to Chicago.  We stayed in a nice hotel and saw the Vagina Monologues together.  

In the twenty years I have been gone two of the women in our movie group have died.  One lives in a skilled nursing center following a stroke.  I caught up with these two women.  We had lots to share.  

Then I went to Timbercrest Retirement Community.  There were several people living there I wanted to see, including the woman from our movie group that now lives there.  She remembered me and we told each other stories from our movie group days.  She said, "You are the best thing that has happened to  me today." 

 

I visited several more people.   I always had to tell them who I am.  No one recognized me.  It has been 20 years and I no longer get my haircut at the Country Clipper in a Midwestern town.  I look a bit different.  I was flooded with memories as I walked the halls of this facility where I used to visit so many parishioners and where I officiated many, many memorial services.  It was actually an emotionally exhausting experience.

After I left there I slowly drove through many of the streets in town.  While I was pastor of the Manchester Church of the Brethren the building burned to the ground in the middle of the night.  We built a new building on a larger piece of property.  

I drove in for a closer look and discovered a solar array has been added.  I remember how surprised I was when I moved to California twenty years ago that it seemed like people in So Cal were less conscious of caring for the earth and her resources than rural Indiana was.  I think it is that people here know more directly how dependent they are on the land.  I think that is becoming more and more obvious in California as we struggle with another drought.

When my family first moved to N. Manchester, Brett had not been born.  We lived in what was then the church parsonage.  We lived there until Brett was six or seven.

Then we bought our own house.  I loved this house.  It had two sets of stairs.  The backyard was ample.  It had wood floors and a tall ceiling.  Before we moved there people always referred to it as the Doctor's House.  At least that is what I thought they were saying.  Then I learned that the Jr. High Band teacher's last name was Dockter and his family used to live there.  In a small town all homes are referred to by the name of the former owners.  When we moved in, I called the school district to find our where and what time my children would meet the bus.  They told me the bus driver would call me.  He said, "You live in the Dockter's house.  I will just stop directly in front of your house at 7:35 a.m."  There are definite advantages to small town living.  

I drove across the covered bridge and prayed I wouldn't be the car that finally fell through the wooden planks.

I took one last drive down Main Street before heading back to my friends' home.

There are things I miss about living here.  I miss clouds and gorgeous sunsets. I miss people.  But I am a California girl.  I love the ocean and the mountains.  I like sunshine and warm weather year around.  I love diversity and openness.  I love the authenticity that is demanded of me.  I love the varied cuisine and the opportunities for enrichment....and I love the friends I have in California.