Memory Lane

I decided to take a trip down memory lane today. I drove through the streets of the neighborhood I grew up causing a ruckus in and past the house where I spent the first 8.75 years of my life making forts out of sheets and riding the toy box lid down the stairs. A lot has changed in almost 11 years. The houses, including mine, are all painted new colors. My childhood best friend grew up in a house the color green of peppermint bon-bon ice cream- my favorite. But its color is quite a forgettable one now. People have cut down the gorgeous old trees that used to shade the yards from the summer heat. The incredible purple lilac bush that smelled like heaven has been replaced by a retaining wall. And my favorite twin birch is now only a stump. I used to love watching the helicopters fall through its leaves from the branches of the huge maple that towered over it. Although I think they were more of a nuisance to my parents than they were fun for me. The birch was front and center and two huge maples were on either side that we tapped for syrup every spring. We had this insanely awesome yard too. It was a huge rectangle all the way around the house- amazing for water fights and tag. We used one of the maples for home base in kickball. And if you kicked it all the way back to the rusty red colored fence it was a homerun. My brother would hide my water baby in the bushes, and I rescued his baseball cards from the rain out by the chain link fence. The slip-and-slide was our favorite part of summer. And now a new garage stands where our tire sand box once sat. We drew birds with chalk on the walls of the old garage, and ran in and out of its doors all summer and winter long. That house was once my home- with its neon octagon carpet, wood panel walls, and a peach colored bathroom. And I was terrified to leave it. I somehow thought that leaving would mean losing. But, not surprisingly, my parents and big brother knew better than I. With the new house came just as good memories and just as much love. The place didn’t matter as much as the people did. I remember everything about that house and that place and wouldn’t trade it for the world. I suppose part of me would have loved to keep it there in a time warp. But being here now, feels just as great.

DT