when the world seemed to stand still.
Spring time of the 60’s when nature comes alive, I can recall the sights, the sounds, the aroma and the tastes from the corner memories in my mind. I think what I remember the most from those days, are the array of scents carried by the spring time breeze. The fragrant aroma of the honeysuckle that grew along the chain linked fence in the backyard; the fruit trees that grew lined up all in a row pretty as you please and the sweet smell of the fresh cut lawn at our home.
We lived in a good neighborhood when I was growing up and most every one knew one another. I can still recall their names. My mother, she loved to visit with the other wives in their homes and I would traipse along behind her as I wasn’t to be left home, alone. While the adults talked I sat quiet on the couch or in a chair as to not do so, there would be consequences. If I wished to go outside, I asked permission, without interrupting the adults talking. I had to wait until they stopped talking, before I could speak.
On any given day the neighboring kids would venture out to the street to ride their bikes or play a round of kick ball; maybe throw a Frisbee to one another. We were told to respect the car. If a car rolled down the street, we were to move out of the way so as it could pass and we would not get hit. My sister, brother and I would sometimes play flag football in the front or backyard. And sometimes the next door neighbor kids would join in on the game.
Those were the days of my childhood, when the world seemed to stand still.
In that time …
the world was not standing still in the least.
While I was being taught to respect adults, to tie my shoes, how to ride a bike, how to do chores and to listen when being spoken to. The rest of the world was putting a man on the moon, fighting a war, protesting against said war, desegregating the school systems, as well as, making plans to attend Woodstock.
When people talk about the good ‘ol days and missing them I am not too sure what they mean by it, but I know what I miss. I miss the summers going out to the country to visit family that lived on their farms. I miss stopping in at the ice cream parlor to get a 10 cent one dip ice cream cone along the way.
My grandfather passed away in ’69, which brought about living changes for our family. My grandmother not wishing to live in her home alone, talked my mom and dad into moving us in with her. We moved to a new neighborhood, much like the one we had left, just the neighbors changed.
There were fruit trees in the backyard, roses along the fence line and grapes that grew on the chain link fence. Mighty oak trees grew in the front and backyard and from those trees a family tradition developed. On every Thanksgiving day at some point in that day, my brother, sister and I would grab a rake and leaf bags and have some fun raking leaves together. We were not told to do it. No one expected us to do it. It was not a chore assigned to us to do. We just did it.
Those were the good ‘ol days, when the rest of the world was not standing still.
Good post!
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