Every day you wake up in the same place. You have the same routine. You see the same people. You pass the same cars on your morning route. You know the drive to your school or work without even having to think about it. At times you hate it. You wish that you could see something different or explore other places. You hate seeing and knowing everyone because your business can spread through the town like a wildfire. You can’t wait for graduation or until the day you can move away to a bigger place. At least, all of these things were true for me. I never appreciated the small town life until I moved to the city. What I didn’t realize then is that there are so many minute details of my small town life that I miss oh so much.

I miss the community and the sense of belonging that one gets in such a tiny town. I miss how when something tragic would happen, the whole community would come together. When there is a loss, you can count on the town to be your support system. When there is someone in need, there was always someone from your community willing to lend a hand. You lose this sense of community when moving to a bigger city. It is something rare that should be cherished.

I miss the bonfires in the middle of fields, or in the school parking lot. I miss hanging out with my friends around the fire, taking pictures, and telling jokes. My best memories are of my best friends and myself, camping for our senior trip. Going in the middle of a field, making a fire, sleeping in the back of trucks, playing in the creek all day. The simple memories like this are the best. I miss how none of us left the camping trip unscathed by the fire because cooking on a fire is a lot harder than it seems.

The best parts of our summer nights were the crazy late night runs to Dairy Queen ten minutes before they close, hoping and praying they would still serve us ice cream. How we would meet at the beach at ten o’clock at night to swim. The water was always the warmest and the memories were always the best late at night. Going to the playground at the beach and acting like a complete fool, knowing that you can because you’re in the presence of your best friends.

I miss the mountains almost as bad as I miss home cooked meals (I miss those terribly). People would come visit or vacation and say, “these are the most beautiful mountains.” I would shrug and do a polite laugh because I could never truly appreciate them until I had left. Now I look at pictures from home, from Bell Mountain, and from my hometown and I realize how much I really left behind. I look around Savannah, Ga. and it is amazing and beautiful. It is wonderful to experience the city and adapt to a new way of life, but nothing here could ever compare to the North Georgia Mountains. At any given moment at home, I could look outside and see a mountain, and I didn’t realize how much of a wonderful way of life that was. I’m thankful I can now truly appreciate my tiny town.

Most of all I miss my family and my church. Admittedly, I have not searched out a church down here like I should. I think of going to a new church and it honestly just makes me sad. I miss my church family. I miss knowing that I would know everyone when I walked in. I miss singing in the choir and feeling like I was at home there. I miss my family and friends from home most of all.

Growing up in a such a small community for 18 years, you make bonds that can never be forgotten or replaced. I could never be more thankful for small town way of life I grew up in. I used to hate it, resent it, and dream of the day I could leave. Now, I count down the days until I can come back home. I will always cherish the memories I made there. I will hold dear to my heart the small town way of life, forever.