This week I had the joy of going to a restaurant called the Pufferbelly. It is a delightful restaurant housed in a railroad station. I have not been to that place in years. About 11 years to be exact.
It brought back a special memory for me.
When I was five, I visited Hungary for the very first time. After my trans-oceanic plane ride, I had to get on a series of trains from Budapest to my destination of my Grandparent's little village. It was my very first train ride. Despite being tired from an already long trip, I was enchanted.
However, the real bonus came while staying at my grandparent's home. There were train tracks not far from their house and every evening, I listened to the trains go by as I drifted off to sleep. It was my lullaby.
My thoughts have lately been returning to that place. I think mostly precipitated by the fact I approach my 40th birthday and I no longer have my parents to celebrate this milestone in my life. Not having my parents to celebrate this event I think causes my thoughts to think about them and where they came from. Causing my thoughts to wander to their homeland and my family members in a land far away. Causing my mind to delve into memories of long ago.
I wish so much I lived near train tracks so that I could hear the trains go by at night.
But perhaps, just perhaps, someday my wish will come true and I will once again have my lullaby to fall asleep and soothe away my cares...
(The above picture is of a Hungarian train (from Wiki) typical in a rural area.)