Where it All Began

SGH © 2019, August

WHERE I GREW UP

Tomorrow early my lifelong friend W and I head off to Albuquerque Airport and fly EAST. All the way east to the Philadelphia PA area to retrace some steps in our lives.

Two sets of relatives — one set for each of us — and incidentally some friends we have had in common, and several other groups that have meaning to one or both of us.

We plan to drive by the dear old house I grew up in. The corner with two windows , one window facing front and one facing the side, is the bedroom I lived in until I was about 19 when my life spread out to college housing and then to a host of places I lived in subsequently.

Elsewhere I have described my sneaky sojourns out that side window to walk back to those trees in the back and then into the dark woods in my pajamas. My parents only caught me at it once. They called the police. I snuck back into my room (yes, I could maneuver myself up to that roof peak next to the window) and hid in the closet. I never did that again.

My parents and I planned a wedding for W and me in this house. The wedding didn’t happen, as it turned out. About a year ago, W and I somehow found each other when we both were widowed and without partners. It was the biggest surprise in my life!

W has his own special memories in the Bucks County part of eastern PA.

Stories will leap out as we revisit people and places important to us, sixty years ago. What’s the same? What’s changed? Who’s alive?

Our 14 days so so will include “The Shore” (Jersey Shore), George School — where we met — (Bucks County PA), and some other East Coast places, our energies allowing, and a possible hurricane permitting!

But mostly our trip aims to visit with W’s older brother who still lives in the area he and W grew up, and first met me!

All the old “stomping grounds”, so far from where I have lived since, on the Northwest corner of the US and more recently in New Mexico.

Already tired of packing for such a trip, lists and piles of sorted clothes notwithstanding.

But to see W’s brother is the high priority. From both brothers, there is a strong suspicion that this may be the very last reunion. You see, we are all in our eighties. Things happen at this end of life — some surprises and some creeping up predictably.

Bittersweet.

I’m leaving my laptop behind. I’ll catch up with writing here at The Story Hall in a couple of weeks. Should have some real-life stories to tell.

Susan G Holland © 2019