Ohio is one of many forgettable states in the expanse of farmland that make up the midwest. Having lived there for 18 years, I find myself agreeing with the sentiment. Delaware, Ohio is bland, gray, and comprised of more streets than buildings. It is also, unfortunately or not, home.
Delaware is a suburb of Columbus, Ohio, so I lacked easy access to downtown areas and anything more interesting than the grocery store. And, before the age of 16, I was unable to access even that due to the car-based infrastructure that dominated my area.
What I did have access to was a non-insignificant amount of love.
My uncle would come over every weekend to take us on outings to the local marvels in the area. The Northwest Library was a particular favorite of mine and my sister's, a 45-minute drive that my uncle would do without hesitation just to let us be enchanted by the various statues nestled between the bookshelves, or the public computers on which we would play games on, such as Animal Jam or Club Penguin.
Northwest Library’s story garden, taken from https://www.worthingtonlibraries.org/visit/locations/northwest-library/story-garden
Another frequent destination was the old Village Bookshop, which was located inside a refurbished church. They sold gorgeous metal bookmarks and large posters that I'd stick on my bedroom walls with thumbtacks, right next to whatever calendar I received for Christmas.
The Village Bookshop, taken by Shawnie K. on Yelp
Another adventure I'd embark on, long after my uncle had passed away, would be walks in the park with my dad. Every Sunday during COVID, we'd drive out 20 minutes to Highbanks Metro Park and spend an hour walking the trails and watching the world come back to life after the long winter. Afterwards, we'd visit the Olentangy River Brewing Company, not for drinks but rather for the food trucks that would frequently be parked outside.
Other times we'd visit the Dublin area to go to a restaurant and treat ourselves to some baked oysters. They’re hardly anything compared to oysters in New Orleans or anywhere closer to the water, but my dad loves them, and I love them with him.
Nothing here is uniquely worth visiting. Not the parks, not the libraries, not the hallowed CornHenge. Overall, the Delaware, Ohio I grew up with is a sorry place to visit. But it's not a bad place grow up in, especially if you have people who love you.
CornHenge, taken by Das_Miller on Flickr
Last winter, I walked around the neighborhood with my dad, and he introduced me to the new development forming on the other side of the housing development--something I was able to walk to. It felt strange to be able to walk somewhere for a change, where previously I had lived my whole life depending on the kindness of those willing to drive me places.
This steady demise of car-based isolation in the suburbs is undoubtedly a good thing, but I can’t help wanting to grieve the death of the Ohio I knew, even if it has been dead for a while, and even if it is to feed something more accessible. Call it nostalgia or whatever would fit.
So maybe Ohio will someday be a place worth visiting. I can only hope that it stays a place worth living, even if I myself have grown too restless for that city as a young adult.