New Hometown

Moving to a new location, especially to a different state, can be heart pumping, teeth grinding stressful. My son packed my six-room household into his racecar trailer till there wasn’t room left for even a toothpick. All set to go, he and I left at 3 am the Sunday morning before Thanksgiving. We dined and danced at the Bordentown City Veterans Patriotic Ball the night before, leaving at 10 pm to get a little shut-eye for the seven-hour journey. Early for us to leave a party, a great one at that. Alas, sometimes one must sacrifice.

Once I arrived and settled in, the stress was replaced with pure joy. It’s an adventure, finding my way around the Lake Gaston area of North Carolina. Last week I went to get my new driver’s license. The girl at the insurance office told me it was behind the hospital in Roanoke Rapids on Rte 125. I drove onto the hospital grounds and all around it looking for an adjacent property holding the License Bureau. No luck.

Finally I went to the Chamber of Commerce on US 58 for new directions. She sent me out to I-95 to the next exit where the building stood in plain view a mile away. When I left-with my new NC license, voter registration and a pleasant memory- I noticed the road sign said Rte 125. Yup. Just about three or four miles down the road stood the hospital. Different areas of our country express ourselves differently.