Granny Mountain

The city bus would pick Mom and I up at the corner of Division and Clay and take us to downtown Springfield, about a 30 minute trip with all of the stops they made. It was green and cream two-tone, I can remember having my nickle ready to drop in the change tube at the top of the stairs as we climbed aboard.

Funny, how memories stick in your brain. I can almost hear the ding when you'd pull the cord to tell the driver you wanted off. I remember being small beside Mom, my feet dangling off the bench seat. We'd shop at Newberry's, then Woolworth's and have lunch at the counter. My feet dangled from those red stools too.

It felt like a long time until I grew up. My parents made all the decisions until I left home. That's just the way it was if you grew up in the 1950's-1960's. You didn't think of rebelling, you just accepted the fact that they were driving the bus and you were the passenger.

I've been driving the bus for a long time now. Sometimes I know where I'm going and sometimes I don't. I've been lost more times than I can count and I've had some close calls, but my feet now touch the floor and I don't have any excuses not to act my age! 

Today I'm 59 and  I've learned that no matter how old I get that there are new things to learn. I've realized that the most important things in my life can't be bought and I have everything I need for happiness right in my heart. 

I just hope I can act my age but always feel like my feet are dangling!