Central West Virginia's Guide To Life

A DOSE OF MOUNTAIN THERAPY
By Kim Butler  

9/07 The Road Back

"You need a little mountain therapy."

I'll not soon forget those words, even though I once hated hearing them.

Just a few years ago life seemed so simple in a way I can't explain. I just knew what I wanted and I did what it took to make it happen. Regardless. The problem was, I would soon find out how complicated it really was.

Making things happen had always come easy for me. I was blessed with a good head, a good heart, a country upbringing, and a few memorable role models. Fortunately those things resonated with me more than some of the less desirable memories of my childhood, or maybe I just instinctively knew what to tune out. Nevertheless, I was able to rise above the back-then notion that country kids stayed in the country and for me, moving out seemed like the right thing to do.

After all, I wasn't supposed to be in the country. I was born in Muncie, Indiana, a town full of subdivisions and commerce. I had friends to play with on each side of my house. I could ride my bike on the street. The rumble of nearby trains was a familiar sound. My dad worked in the city in a big building and we seemed to have all the necessaries life could afford. I got through kindergarten with a smile on my face.

Then something went terribly wrong. I soon found myself in unfamiliar territory. For reasons I didn't understand, we had moved to the country. Not just the country, but the no-neighbors-for-a-mile, dirty-old-farmhouse, pipe-the-sunlight-in kind of country. I just knew that some poltergeist had taken my parents hostage. How could they do this to me!

School in Calhoun was much different. I rode a bus with kids my own age - and middleschoolers - and highschoolers - all on the same ride. I had to wait out by the road on cold, dark mornings by myself, away from the house, just sure some bear was lurking behind me in the woods. And when the bus finally came, I had to board knowing those nasty teenagers were in the first rows waiting to pester me as I passed. If I survived the walk to the back, I had to fight to find a seat. And that was just the beginning. The bus driver, would take us on a roller coaster ride out of that one-lane holler' that would make the hair stand on your head (and sometimes your butt hit the floor).

The school was old, and dreary, and small. Some of the kids didn't smell so good. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to fit in. But I quickly learned going home wasn't any better. I had chores to do, chickens to feed, weeds to pull. There were no kids to play with, no place to ride a bike (I was used to concrete), no hamburger joints on Friday nights. I would sit in my upstairs window looking over the situation and cry myself to sleep.

The Road Back
As high school came and want, I realized I had adjusted well. Always had good grades, lots of activities, friends and accomplishments. That's where I met my husband and we both decided that when graduation came, we were heading south. I was on my way to college in a bigger place. It was time for us to break some new ground.

Years later too much work and stress had taken its toll on both of us. Problems were mounting. I still thought I knew what I wanted but I couldn't always make it happen now. Life was getting harder to live and we needed a change. I didn't realize that the place I was headed back to was the very same place I couldn't wait to escape from years ago.

But my Dad knew. He often teased me that I needed to move back because "a little mountain therapy" would calm me. To him, the country was medicinal. To me, it was just slow. I knew he said it to aggravate me and it did.

Dad passed away a few years ago. He left me when I needed him most. But I will never forget those words. What I wouldn't give to hear him pester me one more time. I wish he would have lived to see me finally take a stab at some Mountain Therapy. I know he would be proud.

Hoping to simplify their lives, Kim Butler and her family recently returned to Calhoun County after 20 years near Charlotte, North Carolina. They spend their free time putting their old farm back together, keeping the wildlife out of the house and honing their country skills. They plan to build a log home soon.

You can contact Kim at kimbutler(at)frontiernet.net.