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On the street where we lived... The tricycle in the background sits on Penny's drive. |
I asked my youngest daughter what was her favourite memory of
growing up.
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, perfect 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.
Oh, I love it. Pure Utopia. It sounds exactly like the neighborhood where I grew up. Tons of kids, playing outside until dark. Thanks to Facebook many of us keep in touch. It's fun, and so good for your children. I loved the memory, and always the great writing!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Cathy!
DeleteIt sounds lovely.
ReplyDeleteIt was! :)
DeleteYou know, it reminds me of fun times in years gone by. I think back to summers (and winters) that were fun and others I'd just as soon forget about. I go back through my journal and read the entries in those years and reflecting back, I still agree with my observations and long for the chance to relive the good times...
ReplyDeleteI relive them often. Of course I usually remember them wrong. But that is a whole other post . . .
DeleteSounds ideal - for the kids AND the moms. A golden time.
ReplyDeleteTruly a golden time! Perfect description!
DeleteI remember that song! They fly so high, nearly reach the sky, then like my dreams, they fade and die....
ReplyDeleteI always had bubble blowers around when my kids were little, it's a great distraction for them. I vaguely remember a neighbourhood full of kids, I think I was five.
Five! The best age!
Delete