Carrie Link

GOODBYE, LITTLE STORE

We moved to this "village", technically a neighborhood, 14 days before my son, Rojo, was born. When he began crying and didn't stop for a year and a half, I couldn't take him anywhere except "The Little Store" that was around the corner from my house. I was there daily. Postage stamps, cash, beer, wine, coffee, snacks, they had everything I could possibly need, and I didn't have to load the kids in the car to get there.

Rojo's first trip there was in the back of my brand new double stroller. His 2-year-old sister was buckled in the front, he lay sprawled (and screaming) in the back. He was so new he still had his umbilical cord stump.

Tomorrow is "The Little Store's" last day under the original owners. I can't help thinking an era is over. There will be new owners, villagers, actually, and I'm sure it will be wonderful, but it won't be the same. These owners haven't watched Rojo grow since the day he came in with his "stump" over eleven years ago.

As we moved through our journey with Rojo, they moved with us. His progress, lack of progress, the owners, Carol and Gary, have watched and listened. They have literally, seen him grow up right before their eyes.

Tomorrow I take the kids to say good-bye. I was hoping they'd continue to watch and listen as Rojo reaches milestones along the way. I even had illusions that he'd bring his own little boy in the store twenty years from now, the umbilical stump still attached to his newborn, and show Carol and Gary what a great man/father he'd become. Full circle, you know, that kind of thing.

It's so true, it takes a village to raise a child, and we thank all of you for being in our village, both literally and electronically.

love.