Back in May I spent some time wondering thru the back roads of my childhood. The house that my grandparents & great-grandparents built and the house that I grew up in was still there. It's a beautiful old adobe with hand carved doors and beams that my grandfather carved. I have not been in that house for over 47 years. I was lucky enough to go inside since my Mom knew the artist that now lives there.
I was stunned to see the same floor still there. They don't make linoleum like they used to. Definitely more worn, but in tact. The cupboards still the same, the concrete sink in the laundry room that I used to get bathed in ~ still there. It took me back to a time that was joyous and carefree ... my childhood. Growing up in the country, riding my horse, swimming in the river, playing with my best friend... Jeannette. The Good Ole' Days
As I left the house and drove down the road to see where my bestfriend lived I discovered her mother still lived in the same house. Of course, I went to the door to say Hi and she remember me like it was yesterday. She gave me Jeannettes' phone and after I got home I contacted her. We hadn't spoke in over 47 years, but it didn't matter.... we were best friends. After catching up and promising to get together on my next trip and before saying goodbye, she said "you know for 47 years when I go to visit my Moms, I take the exit before her house to drive by your old house and I always think of you".