My memories of childhood are a random collection of images, feelings, and people. I'm not sure which one is the earliest memory for sure, but I don't think I can remember anything before I was four years old. That was when my family moved from Lynn, a suburb just outside Boston, to Framingham, a small town about one hour away. I remember my parents packing up all of our stuff into boxes and my dad talking to his sister and her husband about our house. I later realized that they were buying our old house. I was so excited that my dad let me ride in the moving truck with him, but I don't think I really understood what was going on. I said bye to my friends from the neighborhood, but I didn't realize that I would no longer see them every day.
When we arrived at our new home, I think I asked where the other people who lived there went and when they would be back. Since our new home was in a more rural area, we had a forest for a backyard. It was so exciting to run outside and explore the big rocks and play among the trees. My family lived in that house until I went off to college.
When I go back to visit my aunt in Lynn, I am so glad we moved. That neighborhood has really gone downhill and is now a pretty dangerous place. I feel fortunate that my parents got us out of there in time, but I feel bad that we passed the house on to my relatives!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment