I often have moments when I think back to when I was a kid – how different things were back then. It was the 80s and 90s. A time when there was no doubt, if you looked at a picture or magazine of some people, you would recognize what decade it was. How the trends change and norms and the appearances of people have changed so much. Everything is always changing, whether in a good or bad way, change is inevitable.

I find myself living in moments that I have let pass me by. Looking back at the good moments, no matter how far in the past, feel this way. They have passed me by, never to be had again. There could be future good moments but they won’t be like the moments of the past because something has already changed and it will be different no matter how many similarities there may be.

What I mean is, the outside world is different and you are different with each passing moment. You learn everyday and think different everyday so even living through something similar, it’s still different.

I had to write a bit for my writing class about a place that changed me or made me who I am. I would say that was the place that I grew up. If anything has changed, that place has changed so much, its not recognizable to what it used to be. I still see this place from time to time and it is not the same. All the people who were there are all gone… anyway, I wrote about a glimpse into a day I had. A carefree day with nothing to worry about and one of my favorite people were still alive. Grandpa Joe. He passed away in 1993 but before this year, we had so much fun. I would venture to say that was the only that time that had a positive impact on me – when he was alive and I was at my childhood home. Not after he died, only before. After he died, everything was different and the place slowly became a place I avoided. For many reasons than his passing, but his passing did mark the beginning of big changes.

Anyway, here is what I wrote:

The sun was shining bright overhead as I sat on the thick green grass of my childhood front yard, facing the street. On one side of this section of grass was a two-car driveway and on the other side, small bushes that separated this lot from the lot next door. My house was dark brown with dark brown trim, which matched every other house in the court. The only differentiation were the numbers on the house and on the sidewalk directly in front. Square cars sat in some of the driveways. This was the suburbs of the 1980s – brown houses and square cars.

Families lived in every house. There was always at least one kid playing in the street, either riding their bike, drawing with chalk, or playing sports. Doing whatever kids do between six and fourteen years old when there weren’t cell phones and other distracting technological devices.  

There was a blue painted line at the end of the court. According to the rules of this court, no kid was allowed to cross this line. I would be lying if I said I never did. I might have taken off on my bike to explore, got hurt, and cried all the way back home.

So here I sat on my bit of grass, in the middle of summer, barefoot and wearing shorts and a t-shirt, waiting for the ice cream man. A lullaby was playing in the distance, filling all around with anticipation of sweet treats. My best friend, Darcy, was sitting with me. Her black hair in a ponytail. Other kids of the court were crowded on the lawn, also waiting with us.

During the summer, we waited every day in this way. Once the music would come closer, we would run inside my dark brown house and yell for my grandpa to buy us some ice cream. He would always oblige, most times buying every kid in the court anything they wanted.

On this day, we all decided that we were going to create a human pyramid for the ice cream man. We all climbed on top of each other, laughing and falling over from time to time. Eventually, the ice cream man came and awarded us with free ice cream! He must have liked our little show.

Many summers were like this, before high school. As the years went on and when times got tough, I thought back to these summer days, in the suburbs. A time when I was carefree and there wasn’t anything else to think about other than getting a free ice cream with my grandpa and my little friends.