Last Saturday Greg, June and I loaded up in to our car and headed for a visit of my hometown: Price, Utah.
Price has a whopping population of about 8,000 people. It is two canyons away from any major city. Growing up, I didn't love my small town roots. I hated how secluded I felt from the "real world", I dreamed of what it would be like to eat at Olive Garden whenever I felt like, to not have to drive an hour and a half to go to the mall. I couldn't wait to get out and move to the big city and as soon as I graduated high school I booked it out.
In college I visited on holidays or a week or two in the summer. But since my dad died I haven't been back to Price much at all. The last time I was there was for my little sister's wedding open house nearly two years ago, and even that was just a couple hours and then we we were right back on our way out of there. Greg has only been to Price a very small number of times, mostly because I haven't ever expressed much interest in going there. The truth is that since my dad died and since my mom moved from Price it has mostly been painful to think of going back. To remember all those times with my dad, all the places and people that remind me of him, everything that was changed after his death. If I don't have constant reminders, the grief is more bearable, right?
Now, eleven years after living in Price and nearly six years from my dad's death, I strangely have a lot of interest in going to Price. I don't know why, but this summer it seized me. I need to visit Price. I need to take Greg and I need to take June and I need to show them my house, my high school, the burger bar that I worked at in high school. I guess I kind of felt like I was losing a part of myself by not recognizing my roots. There is a whole side of me, a whole 18 years of my life, that my new little family is totally unacquainted with.
So Saturday we bit the bullet and went to Price. Two hours, two canyons and we were in my hometown.
First stop: Grogg's. The best (and one of only a handful) little restaurant in town.
^^ Every time I look at this picture I want to cry at the grown-upness of my baby.
Greg ordered a coke and a club sandwich, I got my old time favorite, a Hawaiian Burger. Greg was shocked at how good the food was. The best coke he's ever had, he declared! The restaurant had a handful of people in it, we were served quickly and kindly and it was all that good hometown stuff I've been missing that I didn't know I was missing.
Next stop, the street I lived on, and the house I grew up in.
^^ My street. The tree on the right was where I would wait for the bus stop every morning with the other kids on my street.
^^ The house I grew up in. The garage door was open and it almost felt like I could go right in, turn left and throw my clothes in the laundry room, go right and grab a snack out of the fridge.
I knew it would be emotional to see my house, and it was. The ultimate symbol of family and love and safety and protection is that house. It was not easy when my mom sold it. I wrote on my instagram account about seeing the house again, "I rarely rarely visit Price because I miss my dad so darn much, but I feel like my baby needs to know about her mama's roots. This is the house I grew up in. I started crying when I saw it, but they were happy tears because relationships carry on and family never ends."
Next up, my alma mater, Carbon High School. Home of the only dinos in the country!
Next up: The Desert Wave Pool, where I spent many many many summer days. It was the last Saturday before school started up, but the pool wasn't crowded at all, a stark contrast to all the pools we have visited this summer. And that tube I am riding? It cost $1 to rent for the whole day. ONE DOLLAR.
A word about the wave pool in Price. It is the ultimate wave pool. It puts every other wave pool to shame. The waves are big, powerful, and unforgiving. If you're not looking you'll get flipped right off your tube. If you hit a wave just right it can carry you in all the way to the shore. Also, there are many band aids in the Price Wave Pool.
ONWARD!
Our last stop before we headed home was Sherald's Drive-In where I was a car hop during high school. I made cokes and malts for the cars that drove in, and when I made $60 in tips one night I thought I had died and gone to heaven with all that money. (I mean, that can buy 60 tubes at the wave pool!)
Greg got a chocolate malt and a fresh lime. I got a caramel banana malt. We declared it every bit as good as Grogg's and Greg said he was beyond pleased with how good all the food was that we had eaten. He was also surprised with how pretty all the girls from Price were and I was like well duh, look at your wife.
After a full day, we headed home. We ran into a horrible accident in the canyon, and traffic was stopped for over an hour. Some people drive like idiots in this canyon, and it seems like there's always an accident.
It's kind of a weird thing visiting home. The little town felt exactly the same to me, but in the same vein different in every possible way. I think it lost its edge. Or maybe I did. Things that used to bother me- the slowness, the way nothing was ever crowded, the lack of restaurants- were endearing to me now. I loved how inexpensive everything was, how it took four minutes to drive across town, how a stop light was never more than a fifteen second delay. Everything about my little town seemed sweet and kind to me.
Maybe it's time for us to move to a small town?
Price has a whopping population of about 8,000 people. It is two canyons away from any major city. Growing up, I didn't love my small town roots. I hated how secluded I felt from the "real world", I dreamed of what it would be like to eat at Olive Garden whenever I felt like, to not have to drive an hour and a half to go to the mall. I couldn't wait to get out and move to the big city and as soon as I graduated high school I booked it out.
In college I visited on holidays or a week or two in the summer. But since my dad died I haven't been back to Price much at all. The last time I was there was for my little sister's wedding open house nearly two years ago, and even that was just a couple hours and then we we were right back on our way out of there. Greg has only been to Price a very small number of times, mostly because I haven't ever expressed much interest in going there. The truth is that since my dad died and since my mom moved from Price it has mostly been painful to think of going back. To remember all those times with my dad, all the places and people that remind me of him, everything that was changed after his death. If I don't have constant reminders, the grief is more bearable, right?
Now, eleven years after living in Price and nearly six years from my dad's death, I strangely have a lot of interest in going to Price. I don't know why, but this summer it seized me. I need to visit Price. I need to take Greg and I need to take June and I need to show them my house, my high school, the burger bar that I worked at in high school. I guess I kind of felt like I was losing a part of myself by not recognizing my roots. There is a whole side of me, a whole 18 years of my life, that my new little family is totally unacquainted with.
So Saturday we bit the bullet and went to Price. Two hours, two canyons and we were in my hometown.
First stop: Grogg's. The best (and one of only a handful) little restaurant in town.
Greg ordered a coke and a club sandwich, I got my old time favorite, a Hawaiian Burger. Greg was shocked at how good the food was. The best coke he's ever had, he declared! The restaurant had a handful of people in it, we were served quickly and kindly and it was all that good hometown stuff I've been missing that I didn't know I was missing.
Next stop, the street I lived on, and the house I grew up in.
I knew it would be emotional to see my house, and it was. The ultimate symbol of family and love and safety and protection is that house. It was not easy when my mom sold it. I wrote on my instagram account about seeing the house again, "I rarely rarely visit Price because I miss my dad so darn much, but I feel like my baby needs to know about her mama's roots. This is the house I grew up in. I started crying when I saw it, but they were happy tears because relationships carry on and family never ends."
Next up, my alma mater, Carbon High School. Home of the only dinos in the country!
Next up: The Desert Wave Pool, where I spent many many many summer days. It was the last Saturday before school started up, but the pool wasn't crowded at all, a stark contrast to all the pools we have visited this summer. And that tube I am riding? It cost $1 to rent for the whole day. ONE DOLLAR.
A word about the wave pool in Price. It is the ultimate wave pool. It puts every other wave pool to shame. The waves are big, powerful, and unforgiving. If you're not looking you'll get flipped right off your tube. If you hit a wave just right it can carry you in all the way to the shore. Also, there are many band aids in the Price Wave Pool.
ONWARD!
Greg got a chocolate malt and a fresh lime. I got a caramel banana malt. We declared it every bit as good as Grogg's and Greg said he was beyond pleased with how good all the food was that we had eaten. He was also surprised with how pretty all the girls from Price were and I was like well duh, look at your wife.
It's kind of a weird thing visiting home. The little town felt exactly the same to me, but in the same vein different in every possible way. I think it lost its edge. Or maybe I did. Things that used to bother me- the slowness, the way nothing was ever crowded, the lack of restaurants- were endearing to me now. I loved how inexpensive everything was, how it took four minutes to drive across town, how a stop light was never more than a fifteen second delay. Everything about my little town seemed sweet and kind to me.
Maybe it's time for us to move to a small town?
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