Views from Maier Road

Whenever Gary and I go to Seward, we take a drive out to the country. First, we pass the house Gary lived in as a boy. When he gets quiet, I know the memories are coming back. "That's it, that's the old house", he says. He takes a moment to notice if anything has changed. Then, we continue down the highway and turn off onto a gravel road. Gary tries to remember the way by spotting the landmarks from his childhood memories. We take quite a few turns up and back the dusty roads before we reach Maier Road. 

Gary points out the washout where he and his cousins used to have adventures. The spot by the road where Grandpa Maier kept the hogs. The shelter belt that has grown so thick, everything behind it is hidden. He wants to see the place up close, but Grandma and Grandpa don't live there anymore. There's a truck parked out front. He wonders who lives there now.
As the sun is setting, we spot several deer in the fields. Blue birds zip by to the nearest tree. The air is heavy with the scent of growing corn.

 We drive, taking roads long forgotten that suddenly seem familiar again. "It's getting dark", I say. "We should get back to town to watch the fireworks". The dusty road stretches behind us and we make our way back to the highway. The stories of Gary's times at the farm continue to flow as the darkness closes in. Stories of his Grandpa Maier playing cards at the firehouse. A one room school house his dad attended. The lights of town appear and we drive past the nursing home where his grandparents now live. We wonder if they will stay up to watch the fireworks. Surely we will visit Maier road again. To remember. 


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