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 back yard;
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 frisby 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 back yard. And sometimes the next door neighbors 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 mean and what I miss. I miss the summers
going out to the country to visit family that lived on and operated
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. Might 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. 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.
