Going Down Memory Lane

In a few weeks from now, I’ll be traveling down Memory Lane. I hope it lives up to my expectations?

I have a number of images in my head from when I was younger. The street I lived on, the neighborhood, the size of the trees, and the view from my bedroom window. We didn’t take many photos back then, because developing them costed more money than we were willing to, or had to spend.

I know that the big field behind our house now has a school upon it, with the parking lot bordering the area, where I used to climb over the fence to explore the mustard flower covered dirt lot, which was mine and mine alone. I also know that the neighbors back then, are not the neighbors today, which makes me wonder what happened to them through all the years that have gone by?

I no longer have any living relatives in the Los Angeles area, not that I know of anyway, which makes visiting there only subject to what I want to see, and when. The images in my mind of walking home from school, make the distances seem greater than they really are, because I cannot remember the whole route anymore.

The nearby supermarket with the drug store which burned down, right across the street from the Fire Department, has probably changed hands many times, just as the crime rate, or division between rich and poor. The few places that I had worked at, have new names and business, with the current owners probably not even having been born, when I was working there once, earning minimum wage.

I can still remember my Social Security Number, but haven’t had to use it for the last 25 years of living in Denmark. My California Driver’s License which had been changed to a Nevada Driver’s License, which had been changed to a Danish Driver’s License, doesn’t remember me anymore, and the money they use over there seems familiar, but not really anymore!

I won’t be telling the new occupants of my former home, where the many rabbits, pet rats, or dogs are buried in the back yard, because I have forgotten about their exact locations? Where the Tree House stood, or where our Adobe Pool was located is also of non-importance to them, as was how many black widow spiders were found in the old wood pile in the back yard, which I tried to ignore anyway!

I guess, I’ll just drive on by the old neighborhood, and tell my son of what I did back then. He’ll probably nod and act like it is interesting, but will promptly forget it again, when I suggest we stop off and buy some sodas or candy!

My own father also told me about where he was brought up, and where he served as a Conscientious Objector during WWII, but I won’t be showing my son those same places. They have unfortunately been forgotten by me, not having my father anymore to tell about them. I probably nodded and acted interested, but forgot them again, when offered a soft drink, or bag of Doritos.

When my memories are over and done with, it’ll be time for my son to make his own memories. He will remember this and that (hopefully), but the finer details will fade with the ensuing years.

He might just make his own journey down Memory Lane, but things are never quite as we remember them, are they?

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