Recently I’ve been going back to the area where I grew up. While it is for a sad and stressful reason, I really don’t mind. While on the way down Franklin Avenue in Belleville during a recent trip, I found was thinking to myself how much I missed the area. When I mentioned this to someone their response to me was interesting:
“You don’t miss the area, you miss what it was to you.”
It was a thought-provoking comment. Do I miss my Motherland because it is familiar? It had me thinking again after reading a similar post by Jersey Collective regarding the demise of a favorite local coffee hangout.
I can still drive, walk, or bike ride just about all of Belleville and Nutley, as well as a fair amount of Bloomfield and North Newark blindfolded. I know every shortcut and backway. I can still tell you exactly where the cut in the fence was growing up to cut through the golf course to save time walking home. I used to be able to walk up to Franklin Plaza and pick up fresh Italian bread, meat for Sunday dinner, prescriptions, a birthday card, The Belleville Times, and a Carvel ice cream all in one location and walk home. One of my favorite things to do when the weather was warm was ride up to the high school on my bike, head all the way up to the top corner of the stadium, and sit and read a book. Yeah, I know; boring kid. But I liked it. It felt safe. It was home. Once I had my license, I could drive to St. Lucy’s Church in the old First Ward and sit and pray and enjoy the peace of the church and then stop at Di Paolo’s to get a cannoli.
Is it the familiar we long for or is it the place itself?
I’d be lying if I said I know the answer, but it surely makes me think.