My mother’s roots trace back to a poor, tiny town in east Texas. The town of Boling today boasts a population of about 200. Her memories of growing up in a dysfunctional family on the wrong side of the tracks are not fond. To this day, she is grateful that she was able to get out when she did — a feeling which was compounded when, during our recent visit, she ran into locals who haven’t left and have barely changed in the 30 years since her departure. Mrs. Archer is still running the Boling Superette, which has devolved from a grocery store into a chaotic. perpetual rummage sale of sorts; Mr. See, whose children she recalls playing with in elementary school, still has a ragged farm on the outskirts of town. This series reflects my mother’s attempts to reflect upon and balance the eerily familiar and the uncomfortably new aspects of a place that never really felt like home.