There’s only a few more miles to go until her exit. The familiarity of these bends and curves in the highway prick at her mind. In a comforting way it feels like a buttery old glove made of soft leather molded to your hand. It fits snugly and securely wrapping you in warmth and a thin layer of protection. However, if she’s being honest, she isn’t feeling very secure.  How many years has it been since she’s been “home”? Her nerves are a bit jangly and wiry, and she wonders at her decision to visit her hometown. Will it fill the void gnawing at her heart – that unsettled feeling of something unfinished and dangling, something needing her attention to bring closure and perhaps much needed peace. It’s a vague nuance of emotion that dances in her soul; twirling and spinning, beckoning her to explore and discover what’s sitting within her demanding attention. What is it that needs her to let go?

Sipping the last dregs of her Peets oat milk, light foam latte, Natalie rounds the last bend. Here is the slight rise in the highway with the old barn in the field to the left. It once was a rusty red, but with all the weathering it’s endured the color is now a dusty brown. The big sign hangs by a tilted chain over the arched entrance. The country lane leading up to it still has potholes and ruts. The name painted on the sign is kind of hard read, but Natalie knows it by heart – Whispering Oaks Farm. The small orchard to the right is still standing but my, how the trees have aged and gnarled and twisted.

Two dappled horses languidly munch grass hay in their tidy corral. Natalie remembers Mr. Jameson allowing her and her friends to bring apples and carrots to his horses. She loved the feel of their chin whiskers tickling the palm of her hand and the intelligence in their dark eyes.

Her exit is next, and she signals and slows to follow it down and to the right. There’s a stoplight now where there once was a STOP sign. Modernization! At the green light, she heads into town to see what else has changed.

So much looks the same. There are tweaks, updated signs and fresh paint on some of the storefronts, but most of the businesses look the same as when she left.  Almost imperceptibly, her grip on the steering wheel loosens. Her neck and shoulders drop as muscles unclench and settle a bit.  There is something comforting here in the old and familiar.

Parking along the street bordering the town square, Natalie steps out, stretches, and watches people entering the bookstore and the new-to-her café on the opposite side of the square. In front of her, people stroll around the grassy, tree lined park. Some have coffee in green cups from the café. Others carry restless children demanding to get down, so they can run, screech, and play in the small, shady play area. Still others sit and watch the world go by or read their books, absorbed in the tales being told.

Natalie walks the park, taking in the scent of the pine trees growing in a cluster at one end. Pine has always held an old, safe, happy scent. The splashing fountain is updated and much cleaner now. It is so cheerful in its bubbling and chuckling. She feels the corners of her mouth turn up and can’t help smiling with the happy fountain. She remembers picnics and cold sodas in the summer on the grass right here in this spot.

She sits for a bit to take it all in. She did have happy times here; she did have fun and felt like she belonged. She did… How long will she allow that one memory, with its wounds and startling betrayal to stifle her? Natalie was sure that moving away would force that memory to fade into the jumble of her fast-paced new life in a bigger city, with more people and chaos to drown it out. Maybe it did for a little while, but it never truly went away, did it? Is this why she feels such a draw and pull on her heart to be back here? Is it time to let that terrible memory go, so she can peek back in time with fondness and happy nostalgia, to the little town that formed her and grew her up? She has such a need to remember some peace and joy, some happy contentment without the roiling bitterness and pain flooding it all out. Yes. She thinks nostalgia and healing are what’s been calling to her…

Waking up before the alarm clock, Dominic feels a push to get moving this morning. It’s an interesting anticipation and he wonders what it wants from him.

With his morning routine complete, Dominic grabs his keys, wallet and phone and scoots out the door. On the way to the café, he remembers he needs oat milk; it is becoming quite popular, and he’s run out. Swinging by the neighborhood market to grab some, he notices a flat of bright colored lollipops by the cash register. For some reason, they catch his eye. Hmmm. These could be a fun addition to the pick-up counter. Dominic buys the flat, picturing the short, wide mouthed vase he will put these lollies in as a fun, catchy display. His long-time barista, Meredith, will probably roll her eyes and tease him for it. He chuckles as he figures out some brilliant comebacks to her good-natured ribbing.

Opening his shop, The Cuppa Café, Dominic gives it a once over, like he does every morning. He turns the hand painted OPEN sign facing out. “I wonder who will stop by today?”, he asks the pastry display.

The church that her grandma brought her to as a kid is down the street about two blocks from the town square. Natalie remembers the smell of wax, hymnals and a faint, flowery scent.  She reaches the steps to the church and takes it in for a few minutes, before trying the big double doors. It looks the same, radiating a welcoming sense of belonging. The white paint by the doors is scuffed and peeling in random places along the sides and near the stained-glass window. The church spire points up, up, up.

Her breathing feels easier and lighter; not so strained and constricted. Funny, she never noticed how hard it’s been lately to breathe deeply. Feeling a calm, lovely serenity beckoning her, Natalie opens the doors and steps into the chapel. The scent memory hits her, enveloping and wrapping around her like an old quilt. Safety. Comfort. Peace. The frenetic energy drains away as she sits on a faded, padded pew and rests. She rests mind and body, allowing her spirit to drink in the memories that pour forth. Healing memories. Church potlucks, kids’ choir, Christmas Eve services and VBS – where the teachers always had a supply of sweet, bright colored lollipops as prizes. Such happy times!

Delicious feelings and gentle memories smooth out the worn, cracked, bandaged up places in her heart; even that place where the wounds and betrayal are hidden is tended to with mercy, grace, and healing. It’s time to let go and allow it to be taken from her. She’s ready. Natalie lifts her head and notices dust motes floating above her, dancing and moving toward the beautiful stained-glass window. She imagines those motes as tiny balloons with wispy tails carrying the wounds and pain, ascending toward the gentle light to be kept and tended by Someone else now. Freedom. Joy. Nostalgia.

Her time in the church brings restoration and lightness. Nostalgia is healing. The old things and memories hold a special balm that soothes and brings clarity. This was her call to come home for a spell. A reckoning in her spirit that needed to happen, and it did.

Warm soothing coffee sounds lovely right now, so Natalie makes her way to The Cuppa Café. Pushing open the doors, the bright, roasty scent of coffee brushes up against her. A man in a green apron is adding scones to his pastry display. “Hi and welcome in!”, he calls. The barista named Meredith finishes rinsing some cups and hurries over to take her order of a large oat milk latte with light foam. “Hey, you’re in luck! I grabbed a big carton of oat milk just this morning on my way in”, Dominic tells her. Natalie smiles, nods, and waits as Meredith makes her drink. “Is it ok if I add a bit more foam to your drink?”, Meredith asks, “I have a new foam design I’d like to try, and it need just a bit more to make it look right.” “Sure,” Natalie says, “how fun!”

Walking to the end of the coffee bar, bright colors in a short, wide mouthed vase catch her eye. There is a sign propped up against the vase that says, “Take One.” Oh my…the lollipops. What in the world? Natalie carefully picks a bright yellow one.

“Here you go!” Meredith hands her the cup and turns to start on the next order. Heading to a nearby table, Natalie sits and looks in the cup. The carefully crafted foam design is a balloon with a wispy tail.  Her eyes mist. The balloon and yellow lollipop blur a bit. The way this entire day has blended in a perfect symphony of comforting nostalgia, healing release and budding joy, touches her heart and soul in a way she has never experienced. Compassion. Tenderness. Hope. Is it random alignment? She thinks not. Someone orchestrated this all for her. How well thought out and lovingly intimate are these little gifts she received today in her hometown.

Refilling the jug of Half ‘n Half, Dominic glances at the slight, brunette woman sitting by the window. He hasn’t seen her before and it being a small town, he notices. As he watches her looking at her coffee cup and the yellow lollipop she chose, he sees her eyes are over-bright and misted. There is deep emotion at play here and he feels like an intruder watching her.

As Meredith brushes past her on the way to the stock room, Dominic hears the woman tell Meredith how beautiful the foam balloon looks and how much she appreciates her decorating her coffee with something so precious.  Hmm. Interesting way to describe a foam design…

Dominic hears the woman push back her chair, and gather her purse, coffee, and lollipop. She stands a moment, then shyly approaches him.

“Hi, excuse me – where did you get these lollipops? I haven’t seen these in a long time. I know this sounds crazy, but they bring back good memories for me. I really needed that today. So, anyway, thanks.”

She hurries from the café and out onto the street. Dominic stands still for a few minutes taking in what she said. So, this is what the feelings of anticipation and purpose were about this morning; the reason these silly, spunky lollipops caught his eye, willing him to display them. Someone arranged this random encounter for a dark-haired woman who needed a reminder of good things and happy times. Standing in the middle of The Cuppa Café Dominic smiles to himself – I wondered who would stop by the café today. Who knew that latte foam and lollipops could be life changing?