Simpler Times…

Sadly, there is nothing left of my childhood home.  Last week, it was torn down…

My brother sent me this photo as the last walls were knocked down.  He just happened to be walking his “granddog” in the old neighbourhood.  I’m happy my parents are no longer here to see its demise.

I understand that nothing lasts forever and that older neighbourhoods like the one I grew up in eventually must be revitalized.  That reality does not make it easier.

I didn’t grow up with privilege, but I did have a charmed childhood, and much of that had to do with where my home was located. There was a strong sense of community. Everyone was from the same economic demographic, with parents about the same age. Families were bigger then. I have three siblings, and although not every household had a house full of kids, we had lots of playmates and spent all our free time with them, playing, mostly on the block.

The term “helicopter parent” was unheard of!  Kids did not rely on their parents for their entertainment…they made their own fun.

This time of the year was probably the most fun.  A green belt was across the street from our house, and a train track ran parallel to the field.  There was a ditch about 3-4 feet deep on either side of the tracks.

A small holiday trailer manufacturer was located a couple of blocks away.  I remember walking over there with my friends (we would have been anywhere from 9-12) and asking for the scrap wood, which we used to build rafts.  Our dads helped out to make them float-worthy!  (We also used this scrap wood to make go-carts in the summer.)  There must have been much more snow back in the day because come Spring, those ditches were filled with deep water (2-3 feet).  We spent hours floating down the stream (ditches) in our homemade rafts.  Inevitably, someone would fall into the water, but there was never a danger of drowning.

Do you remember playing marbles on the boulevards just as the snow melted? Soon after, the front sidewalks were covered with chalk hopscotch boards, and when that “season” was over, we played double Dutch skipping for hours at a time.

Once the snow was all gone, we were off to the neighbourhood gas station asking for the used oil cans which we used to play cricket in that same field along the tracks.   After dinner, we’d all meet in the field again to play scrub until there was no daylight left.

Winters were spent at the community league rink.  I learned to skate there, took figure skating lessons, and when I was a teenager, we played broomball on Sunday nights.  The outdoor speakers blared out the top 40 tunes throughout the neighbourhood as we all joined hands and played Red Rover, Red Rover or Crack the Whip.   Of course, we all had a crush on someone and hoped we’d be asked to skate with them.   It was all so innocent…

I had the childhood I’d wish for all children.  What we lacked in material things was made up of a wealth of glorious memories.  There is much to be said about “simpler times”.

xox Judy❤️