MY VIEW
Calling Lewiston home is a heartfelt sentiment
Updated: 08/21/08 6:36 AM
There’s an old-fashioned song that lauds my subject: “I love those dear hearts and gentle people who live in my hometown.”
I’ve lived in Lewiston for more than 53 years. It’s changed. I’ve changed. But my love for this place where roots grow deep has not.
Within a mile range, I can reach all of the important places — the pharmacy, post office, bank, library, chiropractor and my favorite restaurant. Within three miles is my wonderful doctor, right next to the local hospital. Comforting. And my little car knows the well-worn route to all of them.
But convenience is just a small part of my love for this town where I live. It’s the people who inhabit these places. It’s always the people, isn’t it?
Recently I went to the dollar store and the florist, whose place is next door, came in with his two
dogs, who visit because the cashiers give them treats. Sometimes the dogs come by themselves.
I know the florist well. Once he became worried after I’d brought in several half-dead plants to be resurrected. He told me he would have to make a house call and see them in their natural habitat. And he did. After inspection he sat with my husband, who’d had hip surgery.
One day, much later, the florist asked me how my husband was. “A bit down,” I replied.
“I can fix that,” he said, and gathered up a bouquet of spring flowers for me to take home.
The men at the service station love my car and are determined to keep me in it “until death do us part.” The car in question is a 1989 model with only 23,000 miles. Lately it’s been falling apart and has needed a new headlight, tires and several hubcaps. I lost one hubcap at the drive-in bank and one smoozing too close to the drop-off mail box. They took pity on me and the last hubcaps were on the house.
I take my My View columns into the dentist’s office, where the receptionist enjoys them and tacks them up on a bulletin board in the waiting room.
I visited my favorite restaurant one day. Alone. Nearby were a husband and wife I knew. They invited me over, and we spent the next hour and a half telling stories and laughing with the waitress and bartender, who both sat down with us in conviviality.
There’s no telling who I’ll meet at the grocery store. Once, when I’d broken my foot and was driving one of those carts, a man I knew was riding another cart and challenged me to a drag race down the frozen food aisle. But we chickened out at the last minute.
It’s good to pick up a prescription at the drugstore and not have to give my name. It’s good to laugh with the oculist on the corner — about life and politics — and not be aware that an hour has gone by, and he’s supposed to close at 2 on Saturdays.
It’s good to browse in the pleasant library and meet fellow readers who share ideas about favorite books. And to visit the Olde Book Shoppe where the “Bobsey Twins” bring back memories. And it’s good to call friends without having to use a long-distance number.
I left my wallet in the post office recently, and someone turned it in — money, credit card and all. When I expressed grateful surprise on retrieving it, the postmaster just smiled and said, “that’s Lewiston!” Amen.
