Even now, when I'm over 50, as we approach Lynden I can't help feeling excited and happy and eager to get there. Usually I find myself singing, "Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong..." I often refer to visits to Lynden as "going home" although I also refer to coming to San Jose as "going home", too. I could relate to a story Jan told me about when she first moved to Lynden. She said that sometimes when she was driving back to the house, even though it was a longer route she would drive down Front Street to get home, just to see the shops and be in town and savor the feeling that she actually lives in Lynden.
One reason Lynden felt, and feels, like home, is all the relatives, especially the aunts and uncles. I can remember sitting on the floor or a step at different aunts & uncles' homes (kids had to sit on the floor, adults got the chairs) and as the aunts and uncles would walk by they'd reach down and ruffle my hair. I felt like I was just basking in a room full of people who loved me.
Sometimes when I was bored at school I would sit and list all my aunts, uncles and cousins, trying to put them chronologically in order. Jan said she did that, too. I liked just thinking about all of them. I loved all their nicknames - Hip, Big Chief (or "Big" or "the Big"), Big Dome, Sacajawea (Sac), Scooty, Squirt, Beeper.
I loved it that when you walked down the street people would smile even if they didn't know you. When Dan lived there, he said it felt so good to drive around and people driving by would wave because they knew you. He said it felt like he belonged. I remember feeling that way once as I walked back to my dorm at Calvin. I realized I'd said, "Hi, hi, hi" to a bunch of people as I walked. It's a great feeling.
And in Lynden I felt so normal. It's not that I had a hard time at the different schools I went to, not really, and I always found friends. But in Lynden there were a whole bunch of people just like me. I wasn't weird in any way. It was very comfortable.
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