Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Monday, May 9, 2016

Forever Bubbles

On the street where we lived...
The tricycle in the background sits on Penny's drive.
I asked my youngest daughter what her favourite memory of growing up was.
Her answer surprised me . . .
When our family moved to Beaumont, Alberta, our first home was ‘up on the hill’.
A term for all of the houses built before 1980.
When the town was still . . . small.
Every home on our lively little side-street was filled, quite literally, with children.
We once tried to count all of the kids.
And got lost somewhere around fifty.
Yep. Lively.
On any given day--rain or shine, sleet or snowstorm--the street seethed/boiled/churned with children.
They were running everywhere.
Between homes.
Through backyards.
To the semi-private park tucked neatly into the corner.
It was a safe, peaceful world in which to raise them.
Perfect.
Across the street from our house was the home of Penny and her family.
Penny was my best friend.
And our kids liked each other, too.
Bonus.
On a warm day in spring or fall, with the afternoon sun shining on her front yard, it wasn’t unusual for she and I to be found sitting on her front step, visiting and waiting for our school-age kids to make their way home.
And blowing bubbles for our still-at-homers.
Our little learners would come around the corner, spot us up there on the porch, and quickly join in the fun.
Talking about their day between batches of bubbles.
It was, in a word: peaceful.
I remember it as a fun, happy time.
My youngest daughter remembers it as the very best of times.
Penny and her family moved away.
We are still in touch, as time and distance allows.
But, sometimes, in my mind, I’m sitting on that front porch visiting with my best friend and waiting for my children to gather.
Forever blowing bubbles.
I think my daughter is right.

4 comments:

  1. I think your daughter was right too. We tend to get caught up in trying to give our kids the big things, but it's the small things, the warm homey happy things that matter in the long run.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I still blow bubbles. And this winter (if it gets cold enough) will succeed in getting them to freeze.
    Those small magics are huge.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lovely warm memories. Everyone should have some.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love simple memories like that they're the best.

    ReplyDelete

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