“Maybe, but probably not,” I responded to my walking partner, Lynn, when she invited me to her church this morning. The norm in the South is church, and the fact that I don’t do church sometimes feels like I’m one of those little black smoky guys that come out of the sewer pipes when someone dies in Ghost. Her response wasn’t a hard, finger-wagging “Sinner!” like I half-expected; it was more of a shrug, and we just kept walking.
My fear that being non-religious would lead to isolation or a lack of activities couldn’t be further from the truth. So far, we’ve attended the STEM Festival—”a family celebration of Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math” in Macon—a Braves game, and next week, there’s a 5K fun run, followed by the fair the week after. Plus, I’ve got my morning walking group, which keeps me engaged and active.
“Are you missing home?” my brother asked on the phone the other day, and it stopped me. Am I? I talked about the smell of evergreens, the mountains, and the comfort of knowing where everything is. That made me remember the list I’d made of places I wanted to visit in Georgia like waterfalls and nature walks around the Indian mounds.
Having nodded off during The Artist a couple of nights ago, Dave and I plan to watch the second half tonight. But who knows? I’ll probably be out cold again halfway through.
Love, Jaclynn.
Going On 40 