Driving Miss Rose

I can’t take my old dog Rose Bud for walks anymore, she’s too arthritic and doesn’t have the stamina anymore. So I load her up and we go for little drives in the evening. I crack the windows open for her so she can take in all the smells of the neighborhoods we pass through. She’ll let out a bark or two if a particular smell warrants it. I don’t mind, she’s not long for this world and it’s mostly peaceful just her and I.

We drive around town mostly. Unfortunately it always leaves me feeling a little melancholy though because of what I encounter. I see elderly houses looking so lonely and forgotten. Some literally shells of their former selves. Once majestic homes that have lost their honor seem to convey the message-time has not been good to me. Dwellings so incredibly run down but yet are still sheltering occupants that I can only imagine how much they must struggle with their daily lives. There are so many homes that the idea of renovation for them is beyond consideration. Some families occupy these less than ideal places because it takes everything they make just to get by. Maintenance and home improvement are way down on the list of their needs. Then there are those that can only be described as shacks but still considered habitable by some because the alternative would be homelessness. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t such an abundance of them.

I like to imagine what they were like when they were brand new and the new owners were so proud to move in. I like to think about the babies that were brought from the hospital and raised in those nice homes. What kind of memories families made in them. Maybe Christmas trees in the window. Neighbors coming over to sit on the porch and chat. Kids running and playing in the yards.

It’s not just the homes though. The buildings that once conducted so much business in town now boarded up or walls/roofs caving in. Then there is the old hotel. I’m sure it has had guests arrive by horseback, covered wagon, train, bus and not long ago automobile. It has provided rest for thousands of guests over the many years, probably since the foundation of the town. Now it is dilapidating by the day but yet eerily still has a light burning inside. Kinda like Motel 6, “We’ll leave the light on for ya.” The only ones left to check in now are the varmint variety.

Author: The shade tree writer

Just a small town gal that’s lived a few years. View all posts by The shade tree writer