Greenwood Indiana, what a nice place to be. Home is where you stop traveling, where you no longer feel like you have to yet go more miles until you are there. Greenwood was that place for 11 nearly 12 years. Our house filled with sunshine in the morning, there were wonderful South facing windows. There was a big back yard for the dogs to wander. It was home. That subtle difference between home and vacation. I miss Greenwood sometimes. Things were different then they are now. But you move on, continuing to build your life. I guess that is the lesson we all learn. Yesterday I was wandering a folder of pictures I have aptly named Other. In the Other folder I opened the was a folder called Sony video camera, from that folder I have found a number of pictures I haven’t seen for a long time. Yesterday’s, today’s and possibly a couple more days come from that folder.
Most of the pictures are of the first couple of years in Greenwood. So that would be 1999 and 2000 time frame. It seems strange that the little boys you see in these pictures are now adults. They do, still sit close together on the couch as twins do but they are bigger now. Greenwood as a suburb of Indianapolis, is located on the South side of the city. We were on the South side of Greenwood, less than a mile from where my sister lived (they lived in Greenwood for many years before us. They moved to Greenwood in 1990 or so).
I suspect based on the age of the boys in the pictures and of course, the writing on the cake, that this was Lynne (my sister) and Rebecca (Barb’s daughter my step-daughter) joint October 1999 birthday party at the house. It was nice for the years we were there to have everyone together for events. That changed quickly over the years, but it was nice at the time. The joy of doing the family history project is remembering the things that were and mixing those with the things that are to share the history of where we were and where we are. Greenwood is in the rear view mirror now. It was however, home for a time. I traveled a lot back then, it was nice to arrive in town via plane and either drive, or take a cab home. Arriving after the 25 mile jaunt from the airport was always a moment producing a deep sigh. I was home.
Family Historian, reformed traveler