same car ride, very different feel

No one should ever have to "play God". Coming to the resolution on when is the right time to let go of something or someone you love shouldn't be a burden anyone should have to feel responsible for. However unfortunately, what i think should or shouldn't be the case doesn't really matter. This past weekend, my family and i played God and at 12:40 pm on Saturday afternoon, we made a gut wrenching call i dread to ever have to make again.

I'll never forget being in 5th (maybe 6th) grade and driving to central PA to pick up our puppy, who at that time was still name-less. We pulled up to an average single garage home... the kind that had a split living floor plan, knocked on the glass front door, took off our shoes in the foyer and walked up the steps to the living area. As a little girl, the whole thing was a little strange, but ultimately i knew that i'd be leaving that person's house with a new puppy so the awkwardness of hanging out in a strangers home quickly faded. After a few words we were led outside to meet the little man himself, his litter mates and his parents. From what I remember, there weren't too many left to chose from and our puppy had already been decided on.

As we wrapped up the buying process, i quickly scurried into the back seat of the car.... the driver side, behind my dad.

i think it was fall, and i'm fairly certain my puffy hunter green jacket zipper was cutting into my neck, which was usually something i'd complain about, however after i was buckled in and not caring about the zipper, mom handed me our puppy. still nameless.

there we were...a family with a new little canine addition, talk about a thrilling ride home! for about an hour we sat and brainstormed when finally, after my mind racing and recalling a movie i had seen not too long prior, Simon was decided upon, as in Simon Birch. (great movie) it was a perfect fit, and in that moment he became "my dog". i felt on top of the world. Promptly after the name was all straightened out, our little family immediately began reciting "heda good boyyy" and the "simon's a good boy! he is a good boy, he really is, he really is, he really's a good boyy" song.... he. loved. it.

i'll never forget that ride home. i remember my mom turning around, smiling and petting his little body. my parents were lively and excited...we all were! he was adorable...our own mini lassie and everything i could have ever wanted in a family addition.

as time went on and life happened, there was always the constant of one another...and Simon. throughout the past 17 years of Simon's existence, i moved, i made childhood memories, i argued with my parents, i stayed out late with friends, i made it out of high school alive, i picked out a college, i left home and i honestly, never ever really looked back. every single thing i know of my childhood was wrapped up in that little dog and all of a sudden, it was gone.

Simon, our shetland sheepdog, our family pet, the alpha male, our 'heda good boy', "my" dog, was put to sleep on Saturday at an appointment set for 12:40. i'll never forget being 25 and picking him up, slowly carrying him down the steps of our home and getting into the back seat of the car. the drivers side, behind my dad. my brother to the right and my mom in the front. this time.... it wasn't as thrilling. this time, with tears in all of our eyes, and my mom still looking back and petting his tired body, i held him as he shook. almost 20 years later, as a family, we took Simon to be put to sleep and as the little girl who held him on the drive home as a puppy, i held him until i couldn't any more.

sure, sometimes difficult decisions have to be made that no one wants to hold as their own. that's the man up stairs role, right? sometimes, those decisions make it hard to sleep, make your stomach sink or make your eyes well up with tears. this weekend, the decision to come home and as a family, put Simon to sleep was made and we were the ones that sealed our own mini lassie's fate. I think as human beings we tend to do things selfishly. we want to keep the people, the animals or the things we love alive for as long as possible. we want to wish all the hurt and heartache away and pretend that tomorrow is a new day, that next week will be better and well, it will all just go away with no difficult decisions needed. i think this is a selfish tendency that loving family members tend to make and what we have to remember is that sometimes the most difficult decisions are what is best. for Simon, being together as a family and taking him to leave this world just as we brought him into it, was what was best.

for me, i know that at 17 years old, dogs get old and just like people, the things we love in life can't be kept around forever. for me, my dog was an important symbol of my childhood and closing that chapter stings. for me, taking Simon's collar off and holding it tight represents much more than putting my dog to sleep. for me, it in some way represents that i'm not that little girl bringing her puppy home or that my bedroom at "home" isn't as I left it and that my parents aren't as young or my brother as tiny. for me, it's that my childhood as a chapter in "my book" just turned a page and what i have left is a faded red metal name tag heart with the engraving "Simon" on it.

A few days later it hangs on my bedroom mirror. It's not just a playful reminder of my practically perfectly behaved first dog, but that as a family i have made incredible childhood memories and sometimes, difficult decisions have to be made. however, experiencing things like that as a family reminds you to make the next chapter just as, if not more memorable than the last.

"heda good boyyyy"

give it back

It clicked! I love when that happens! yep, no better feeling...i usually couldn't tell you at what specific moments the meanings of things click for me but this morning on my drive into work, i absolutely can. as most know by now, i can't go anywhere without my music on, usually too loud. this morning was no different. i had been up for a good solid 2 hours with an incredibly sweaty workout behind me and was heading into work a bit early (perfect timing for a stop at Starbucks) when i sat at a light prior to turning left onto the highway. and then... it clicked. I was already a minute and three seconds into the song but at that moment, with the sun in my eyes and the windows down, i had to start it over.

Eric Church's "Give Me Back My Hometown" is a pretty catchy song. that's probably why for first 900 times I had listened to it as either background music, a pre-game jam or just time filler on the treadmill it made no difference, but this morning... something was very different. so for what it's worth, i encourage you to take a listen... closely. try your damnedest to make it relate-able. i guess for me this morning...it was just that.

"You can have my grandma's locket
The knife out of my grandpa's pocket
Yeah my state champion jacket
I don't care you can have it
Every made memory
Every picture, every broken dream
Yeah everything, everything, everything

Give me back my hometown
'Cause this is my hometown
Yeah, yeah, ooohh, yeah, yeah"

there's something about a hometown. you feel like you own it, you run the town. you're the guy or girl that calls the shots and knows every nook and cranny through the streets. the place makes you proud to be part of it's history. you know where the cops sit, where the best places to catch a sunrise are and you know what roads to run on better than anybody. and honestly, that's just the beginning.

it's yours, right?

but see, that's not necessarily what makes it a home and to be honest, that's why when someones says to "give it back" it can mean pretty powerful stuff. for me, i look at a few places as "home". Perkasie for sure, Columbia without a doubt and well, Roanoke. but i get it...all of those aren't really "mine"... they are places full of memories and yet that's what pulls on the heart strings... that's what makes them a home. so for a song like "give me back my hometown", it speaks volumes.

i think that at any moment, your "hometown" can change. people come and go and can leave a mark on what you thought was yours, therefore tarnishing what you may have thought you had. and as a matter of fact, it gets into your bones and how to shake it, i haven't found just yet. i think the way you look at your hometown changes based on the relationships you build and the memories you make. sometimes when real life love or laughter or even heartbreaks happen, it makes the coffee shops taste different, the street lights invoke those "a different place and time" thoughts, the big bright lights at the hometown football field look a bit dimmer, and the back roads you called 'home' remind you of the flood of memories that you may have made right in those same spots previously. i think that's why i love going back to south carolina... the way five points looks before 7am, or how the dew on the lawns along my run route in perkasie are unlike any other, and as for roanoke, i compare every single cup of coffee i drink to the ones i enjoyed at CUPS. I have made memories in other peoples' actual "hometowns" and that for some, like that from the point of view in this song, doesn't sit too well with others.

However, the question i have is can the memories you keep of a place you call home, truly be stolen? Does what you think is yours, not actually belong to them as well?

so perhaps for me, that is what is exciting about experience new cities and states... there are no memories yet. neither good, gutsy, bold or bad. there's nothing that ties you to a specific time which in your mind, can stand still forever. and perhaps for others, a line like "you're in every scene" is what makes a song like 'give me back my hometown' reign so true.