Visits to my hometown are nostalgic. Memories from childhood come rushing back; long summer days swimming and climbing trees, deep white winter days sledding, and the crisp spring and fall months of school. On one of my recent visits, I walked to the neighborhood where my maternal grandmother lived, past the road that my siblings and I wandered along when we went from our house to Grandmother’s. It is no longer a road, but a path. It reminds me of Alice in Wonderland or maybe a scene out of The Lord of the Rings.