I grew up in town. There is no denying it and it shows. Things are different there. Not better, not worse, just different. We had the biggest yard in the neighborhood, where kids gathered for all sorts of games. There was a huge tree at one end and my dad’s garden at the other. Beside the garage there was a side yard. Near the back door stretched a clothesline, which my mother used religiously (not by choice) because there was no dryer. The only fence in the yard was a rectangular piece about eight feet long on which a grape vine grew. (My dad and grandpa made wine one year, but that is another story.) There were no gates or barriers in our yard and we lived across the street from an entire empty block in West Sioux that we referred to as the vacant lot.I have an older brother and a younger sister, and we played outside in the fresh air and sunshine. We had a great stay-at-home mom, who was full of creative ideas to keep us busy. My mind is full of brilliant childhood memories of catching butterflies, drowning gophers out of their holes, hide and seek, kick the can, snowmen, snow forts, snowball fights and fun in the sun. Despite the lack of barriers in my youth, one lesson that I have learned in life is to "close the gate" behind me.While growing up, my siblings and I would say good-bye and announce where we were going. It came to be expected that my dad would come back with "don’t let the door hit you on the way out." It was always said jokingly, with love, and it became a sort of family ritual. While in my thirties I converted it to "close the gate behind you" and gave it a deeper meaning. Maybe my dad had a deeper meaning in mind, but I don’t think so.Closing the gate is a way of life. There are many different meanings to this very simple phrase. I run a small daycare where closing the gate on the basement stairs and across the driveway to the backyard is a matter of safety. It is a coveted privilege and honor reserved for big kids on rare occasion to go beyond the gate and into the front. When moving livestock on a farm (I’ve heard tell), gate closing is not esteemed or fun and sometimes involves a whole lot of waiting and absolutely no excitement. But it is vitally important work. Ask any farmer who has ever had the pasture gate left open by careless hunters, and they will tell you in great length and with much arm waving and gestures of its importance. But figuratively speaking, closing the gate is about tying up loose ends. It is about putting the past behind you. It is about making amends to repair or restore a damaged relationship. It is about making apologies when they are due. It is about owning up and going beyond. It is about forgiving and forgetting."Closing the gate" is a way of life that I have tried to embrace and practice on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis. I try every day to do it with humor and grace, but it is difficult. Home alone and on my way to work at 6:30 one morning, I came out of the back door of the house, put my old dog in the car, went back in for something and came out again. The house yard was fenced with chain link and there was a gate two steps down from the walk. I had not shut the yard gate while going back to the house because I was coming right back. To make a long story short, I fell and hit the right side of my face on the gatepost and hinges. I knocked myself senseless and nearly put out my right eye. I broke bones in my face that bother me to this day. Surgery was available that may or may not have helped, and I decided the risks outweighed the potential benefits and opted out. It was a senseless accident that may or may not have happened if I had taken the 10 seconds necessary to shut that gate.That accident happened three years ago last August. Because I cannot take much jarring and cold and wind bother my face immensely, I have been banished to the shores of Catfish Bay when I used to live on the water. I run around outside on a cold or windy day with these huge snow ski goggles on, and it is not because I have been skiing. Wearing my full-face motorcycle helmet while riding is not a choice for me but a necessity. A lot has changed since my fall. The fence and gate were eventually removed but the lesson remains. This is not a "woe is me" tale. It is an example of life — how we need to expect the unexpected and use the tools that the good Lord has given us to move beyond the past and put things behind us once and for all. How many open gates are there in your life? Forgive, love, laugh, live and "close the gate behind you." Story ideas and comments can be e-mailed to at Nancy861@msn.com or called in at 962-3411.