I’m a sucker for nostalgia. I attribute this to changing school districts three times, and the fact that writing a letter is harder than one thinks. This week there were some exceptional coincidences that took me down memory lane.
Part 1: The old house
We loved the “old house” on Pine Hill road. It was small but that didn’t matter, because we three sisters voluntarily shared one bedroom (plus, the basement was all ours). On our street, I was the first of the five year olds to ride a two-wheeler (but where did my skills go?) and my older sister Cookie was the leader of the pack on the street. Her sidekick had a younger sister whom I played with, and she had the most adorable freckles. Inspired by Goonies, Cookie and her gang rode their skateboards everywhere and crawled through the sewers. We followed them around as much as we could, but I preferred spending my time up in the best climbing tree ever; until one day, the adults found out and chopped down the accessible branches. As any kid does, we quickly got over it and continued to climb and play in the park, only a few blocks away.
Part II: In the summer before fourth grade, my family moved across the beltway, and this is my second memory of saying good bye to something. To be continued.