Chico is a town in Northern California known for its party university, but known to me as the place where Grandma and Grandpa live. In my memory it is the place of a big backyard, three pianos, and a swimming pool with a slide. I went back to Chico for the first time in ten years just a few weeks ago. I did see my grandparents during those 10 years, just not in Chico.
It was fun going back. Everything was exactly the same in my Grandmother’s house, just lower down on the wall than I remember. Like the duck clock in the guest bathroom and the cupboard of cereal. It’s strange how life goes on, and we change so much, but some things are so much the same. And maybe it’s just my memories that infuse the present with that sameness, but either way, I think the nostalgia is healthy. As long as we can move forward into the present.