My Rock

“Hey Mom, I’m going play up at the Big Rock”

“Be careful and be home by dark”

“DARK?? Come on ma!!!”

“Alan you’re 7 years old, do as you’re told or don’t go “

“OK…. fine!!”

   That conversation took place many times in my early childhood. You see the “Big Rock” was a magical place at the top of the hill (we called it the mountain) beside our house on the east Jay road. The mountain was completely cleared each year by my Gramp who would use it for pastureland for his cows. 

   Perched at the very top of the mountain was a large rock about the size of a VW beetle projecting out of the ground. To a 7-year-old it was a huge rock.  The rock sloped back against the slope of the hill and made almost a walkway up to the top. Once at the top, the rock dropped off straight down to the ground  some 5 to 6 feet below.  The mountain was probably 150 to 200 feet above the road that ran below. It was a steep walk down to the road. From the rock you could see forever to the south! Sitting on that rock was like being in a different world, to me I was on top of the world!

The Rock was a place I loved to go as a kid. I would spend hours sitting on top of the rock looking south over the valley. To the left you could see my gramps farm just across the road. I would often watch him scurry about taking care of his chores knowing he had no idea I was watching from my perch on the rock. 

  From the top of the rock I could see far off places. Places I knew nothing about as a 7-year-old, I was sure it had to be another state. There was nothing blocking your sight for as far as you could see. On a sunny day you could even see a mystical shiny stretch of ground that glistened in the bright sunlight. It would only shine on certain days and at certain times. I thought it was the roof of a giant building but I later in life figured out the shiny stretch was the sun reflecting off the Androscoggin river miles away from where I sat.

   The rock was a special place, a place where you could get away from whatever was bugging you and become whoever you wanted to be. I would sit on top and look off into the world laid out before me having no idea of what or where I was looking. All I knew was sitting on that rock alone, I was happy and loved being there. I had no idea why nor at that age did I think about it ..

    The Rock was a safe place to spend time, a place where you could be yourself without the worry of what others might say or think. A place where a soggy eyed boy could mend his broken heart after being rejected by his most recent love.   A place where I could go when angry and somehow it just drained away as I would sit there and stare out over what had to be, in my mind, most of the world! 

    I moved away from my rock when I was 12 or so, but my visits didn’t stop. I was only a bike ride and eventually a car ride away from my old friend.  

   The Big Rock went from a cool place to marvel and wonder over the world as a wide-eyed boy, to a safe place of solitude for a growing young man. It became my sanctuary when things were not going well. I pondered many of life’s challenges as a young man sitting on that rock gazing off into the distance. It was a place where how smart you where, or how talented you were at sports didn’t matter. A place where the acne would fade away and a clumsy teen could escape the pressures of life to have a sense of peace in a hectic world he didn’t understand. I went there often.

   The last time I remember sitting on that rock I was a young man who was engaged to be married to a wonderful girl who was planning a life with me and yet I was still deeply in love with Lisa.  Many hours were spent sitting on that rock trying to figure out what to do and how to do it.  I knew there would be tears, I knew there would be anger and eventually I hoped there would be happiness for everyone but first I had to figure it all out.

 Eventually I did.

   My rock and the peacefulness of being there helped me move forward that day, just like it had many times before!

   That was 37 years ago. I don’t remember ever going back for a visit like that again.

You can see in the two photos how much it has changed. The rock is now hidden from view, when Gramp passed no one kept the mountain cleared and nature took over engulfing my rock.  I’m sure sitting on it now, there is nothing but a view of the trees that now tower above it. 

My view that was so important to me is now gone. 

I am somewhat saddened by the thought that I will never see that view again.  

I may walk up this spring just to sit on my rock and say hello.  If it was alive, I would thank it for years of being a faithful companion, a force that ignited the imagination of a small child, for being the ear that listened and the shoulder I  leaned on as a young man who just needed a place to rest from what the world was dishing out.

   But alive it is not……… 

 I might thank it anyway!