The Hood That Made it Good

I got the best surprise today when one of our former young neighbors wrote just to check in. He does that from time to time, and I treasure it. This time he shared that he'll be leaving for the Navy in September. I say that's not possible, since he should only be six, or eight at the most. I still remember the nickname I gave him.

We agreed that we sure do miss the days when we all lived on Otis Dellinger. The neighborhood kids came to our house to play and eat popsicles, with their only care in the world being which flavors were left. We just happened to be the ones with the zipline, so there was always a handful of brave ones ready to slide from tree to tree. We adults would sit or swing on my front porch while trying to solve the world's problems. I'm sure there were a few that we missed. Our family couldn't have been happier for our house to be a gathering place and so full of sticky, chaotic, life! Our doors were open and shut so often, that a black snake even made itself welcome once, but not for long.

We moved from there eleven years ago to spacious family land. It's quiet, off the road to itself, and the winding driveway shows off from season to season. As for guests, though, I'm not sure why I still make our bed since visits are few. Back then, our houses were so close, one rock could hit us all, twice. That was great when we needed to borrow a cup of sugar, get up a game of kickball, or plan a last minute yard sale the night before. Our hammock proved to hold way beyond capacity, our hill was the one to sled, and our slip N slide was lucky to make it through a season. Good times!

I'd go back to that three bedroom house the six of us shared, whose walls could write a book on growing a family. I'd hang our swing and pick right up where we left off if I thought it would bring back those sweet, early days; The ones where flashlight tag and finding everyone a jar to catch "lightening bugs" in, was the night's entertainment, and was more than enough. Here's to all those who made that season, one to remember.