Issue link: https://imageup.uberflip.com/i/181278
I t's nice to have a hometown. I grew up in several states and, from the time I was born until I graduated high school, lived in six homes. My son has lived in the same house in Chapman Heights since he was two. His first sentence was formed and delivered from his stroller as we walked Chapman Heights Road. I was singing the song from "Mr. Rogers," and was at the part where I sang, "I want to have a neighbor just like you, I want to live in a neighborhood with you, Oh…" when he turned around and said, "Mommy, please stop singing." It was a confusing moment for me. I was happy that he was talking and proud that he was polite, but really? Stop singing? How long had he been waiting to find the words to deliver that blow to my ego? Since then, we've had a lot of moments. They've been sweet, lovely, sad, funny, silly moments for which the backdrop has been Yucaipa. He will grow up — he already is, and too fast at that — graduate from Yucaipa High, and move away to have a wonderful life. But he'll always have a hometown. This hometown. It will be a place many of his friends stay and raise their children. He may become a visitor or he may establish his own roots here. Our home will be the one he drives by with his wife and points at and says, "That's where I was raised." He'll tell her about his first dog Rosie that we got at YAPS. He'll show her where he learned to ride his bike. He'll tell her how he spent hours shooting hoops, dreaming of being a professional basketball player. Hopefully he'll tell her mostly about the sweet moments, the ones where we laughed until we cried. There are plenty of those memories to share, and, luckily for me, there's still some time to make a few more. Courtney 2 OUR YUCAIPA | SEPTEMBER 2013