Childhood memories not forgotten

To the editor:

The morning after I visited my parents’ and grandparents’ graves, for some reason, I spent the day reflecting on my childhood. Later that day, I was relaxing in my chair in my bedroom, when I noticed an album on a shelf.

My curiosity overcame me, so I took the album and proceeded to the porch swing. The coolness from the hot day felt refreshing, a quiet evening, a few cars, crickets, a train in the distance, the coo of a morning dove or two.

I opened the album and found it contained pages of my childhood events that I’d remembered. As I proceeded through the pages, my emotions overcame me. There were tears, smiles, a laugh or two.

After going through the album, I sat for a moment reflecting on those days and wondering how nice it would be to go back and relive a memory or two, to be able to greet a friend or relative.

But then I thought, maybe not. Losing them once was enough. There’s hope within each day. With our faith in God and Jesus, then one day we will be together with those who were part of our childhood. No tears, no memories, we will be as one.

I remember how hard it was when they demolished the school I attended. Walking the halls just one last time brought back so many memories. Even though the school was empty and quiet, I could hear the sounds of children, sounds of teachers giving out assignments, lockers in the hallway.

My attention was drawn to a window facing the playground. My eyes were then focused on a swing set. Two or the three swings were going back and forth as if children were still playing on them. I watched for a second or two and they never stopped. You see the playground was calm and vacant.

Each day when we look at our children, so young, so many years ahead for them — one day, they will look back, and to them, this moment will be just another childhood memory, long ago, not forgotten. Sweet memories.

John Flaute