Pathetic, yes...but true. I pouted. I really wanted to drive past my old HOME (S plural...we actually lived in 3 houses over 10 years -- two that were ours and the Dorcus St. house we rented while building our 'dream' house)...where I lived from age 6-16 and which, to this day, holds a particularly soft spot in my heart. (No, it wasn't all cornfields, June bugs, flying roaches and high humidity....)
Greg quickly relented...re-routed the GPS...and we took our 20-30 minute tour of my past.
J. Sterling Morton Elementary - Mr. Lykke, Principal
(Is it any wonder I've always loved school when my first princiPAL was named Mr. LIKEE?)
I'm not sure Addysen (or anyone) was overly impressed when I stated that this was the school where I was the Student Body President in 6th grade. I refrained from telling them about Mrs. Sampson(1st), Mrs. Gehringer (2nd), Mrs. Houston (3rd), Mrs. Wilson (4th), Mr. Hayden (5th) or Mrs. Green (6th). I didn't tell them that this is the school where I wrote my two future best-sellers, "Fiddle the Mouse," and "Bud Luscher Is Missing."
If Josh had been there, no doubt he would have brought up the "Pink Ladies," and the fact that my friends and I all desperately wanted matching pink jackets. Think GREASE 2. (My friends got them...I didn't. Who could have known that just a few short years later -- in Junior High -- not having owned a "pink ladies" jacket would save my reputation? I'm kidding, of course...or maybe not.)
I tried telling the fam about the Spook Alley that was held in the Nature Center at the back of school when Halloween rolled around but by this point, I'm fairly certain that Greg was the only one listening -- and probably only half-heartedly.
I'm not sure Addysen (or anyone) was overly impressed when I stated that this was the school where I was the Student Body President in 6th grade. I refrained from telling them about Mrs. Sampson(1st), Mrs. Gehringer (2nd), Mrs. Houston (3rd), Mrs. Wilson (4th), Mr. Hayden (5th) or Mrs. Green (6th). I didn't tell them that this is the school where I wrote my two future best-sellers, "Fiddle the Mouse," and "Bud Luscher Is Missing."
If Josh had been there, no doubt he would have brought up the "Pink Ladies," and the fact that my friends and I all desperately wanted matching pink jackets. Think GREASE 2. (My friends got them...I didn't. Who could have known that just a few short years later -- in Junior High -- not having owned a "pink ladies" jacket would save my reputation? I'm kidding, of course...or maybe not.)
I tried telling the fam about the Spook Alley that was held in the Nature Center at the back of school when Halloween rolled around but by this point, I'm fairly certain that Greg was the only one listening -- and probably only half-heartedly.
Our first house in Omaha....moved there in June 1980. Had crazy thunderstorms every night for a month. Since we didn't have blinds or curtains... they lit up our bedroom...I was rather terrified. I think my parents paid something like $65K for these digs - -brand-spanking new. Who would have guessed that in 2010, I'd be trying to sell houses for practically the same price?
The house has been painted and the trees are certainly all grown up. The corner shop "Stop-N-Save," is now a "BP." Empty lots (like the one Chip Shaner started on fire when playing with matches) aren't to be found anymore. I guess that's what happens in 20 years.
It was amazing how fast my childhood memories came flooding back: the toilet papering jobs all up and down the street, sledding down the hill in the backyard and down the street, playing Army in the trees behind the house, delivering newspapers, neighborhood block parties on the 4th of July...roasting a pig and having the inevitable water fight, a tornado on the 4th that temporarily shut down the fireworks, sneaking out at my 12th birthday party (in January!) only to get caught because a certain friend couldn't stop laughing outside my parents bedroom window, mowing the lawn and earning a "Pepsi".
(In retrospect, that little hill in the front yard doesn't seem like gargantuan hill it was when I tried to push a lawnmower up it at age 10 or 12. And speaking of gargantuan hills -- the "Mt. Everest" we had to conquer riding our bikes home from school didn't seem to present quite the same challenge as it did when I was 6.)
(In retrospect, that little hill in the front yard doesn't seem like gargantuan hill it was when I tried to push a lawnmower up it at age 10 or 12. And speaking of gargantuan hills -- the "Mt. Everest" we had to conquer riding our bikes home from school didn't seem to present quite the same challenge as it did when I was 6.)
As I pulled in the driveway to turn around, I remembered the night during the construction process that Season tripped on the front steps and cut her head...she ended up with stitches. I remembered being tp'd, cookied, and shoe-polished. (No, my dad was not a fan of that one!) I remembered my mom driving us to tp our friends. (I don't think my dad was a fan of that either.) I remembered staying up late on summer nights and playing Super Mario Brothers with Josh. We weren't really on speaking terms most of the time then....but at night, something changed and those are some of my favorite memories.
In that few minutes of time last Saturday, as the vision of shooting hoops and taking pictures in the yard before Homecoming played out in my mind, I remembered our vacation to Colorado when my dad got Legionaire's Disease. We spent hours in the hospital only to drive home and have him go back to the hospital. And then, the laundry room caught on fire...What a week that was. As a mother now, I wonder how my mom held it together?
I remembered the day my mom let us all ditch school so we could go sledding...and the day we went sledding at nearby Woodhaven park. The hill was larger then - -and faster. The snow was deep and my mom couldn't stop her sled before shooting off the embankment into the creek. I'm not sure I've ever seen my dad run so fast. Imagine 4 little kids at the top of the hill - -watching in horror as their mom shot off a ledge and into a creek. Imagine our relief when she climbed out of the ditch -- laughing hysterically.
If I'd had the time -- I probably would have gone to the door and asked for a tour. I did that once -- a few years after moving to Vegas. Of course, I knew the people who bought our house - -and it had only been a few years at that point. That day, it broke my heart to see the changes. Maybe I am kidding myself to think I could have handled it better now. After all, it's just a house, right?
Just a house -- not so much. It was a home...for maybe 3 years. And lest you think I'm kidding myself -- the memories there weren't all happy. In fact, some of them are downright heartbreaking. But that is the beauty of it right now -- they are memories.
We survived. We probably even became stronger and grew from the experiences. They weren't easy. And they still aren't easy to talk about. BUT....we are a family -- and a close one at that. We've loved each other through the good times and bad...
From one state...to another...and from one house to the next...
2 comments:
Not only the Kirk Cameron from "Teen Beat" posters, but how about Johnny Depp from "21 Jump Street"?
This post made me laugh and cry because I did the same thing to my poor family this summer while we were up in Utah. I have the same nostaglia surround the house we lived in and all the memories good and bad. I hope our kids will feel like that one day about their childhoods! Family is where it's at.
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