Children of the Oil Field

I write this after dinner as I watch two generations of family relax and reminiscence.

Two generations of lives spent in the Oil Fields of Digboi.

There is something special about the Children of the Oil Field.

It started off with the belief that everyone in the oil field township is family.

Pain.

Celebrations.

Birthdays.

Farewells.

We got together for everything.

We felt and still feel a bond that will perhaps never be severed.

The urge to reach out and help if someone is in trouble.

Even if that person is now seven seas away and the last we saw of her was a little child in pigtails.

We love to see the pictures of the new generation on Facebook.

Husbands we would have loved to meet.

Wives we add to our Friends List even if we have never known them.

Children who feel like they are ours.

We have the uncles and aunties, now retired, blessing us on social media.

We don't miss parents we have lost because the oil field gave us so many of them.

We connect.

We trust.

We fall in love every time we see a picture of a tree, a shop, a lane, a bird... anything that brings back thoise wonderful years.

Truly, we are the Children of the Oil Field.

And that makes us special.