Idyllic Childhood

The older I get, the more I realize that I had an idyllic childhood. It wasn't perfect, by any means. I'm a child of divorce and I didn't have all the material things that my friends did (for which I'm grateful). But it really was idyllic. I spent every summer at my grandparents' on their mini-farm. From Memorial Day until the first part of August, I lived with them. Because it was such a long time, it wasn't like a vacation or a visit. It was really living with them. Sometimes my brother and sister would be there too, but they never stayed the entire summer.

I had a half-acre of yard to just wander in. It contained my grandparents' and great-grandmother's house, a rental house, large pasture, old barn, old outbuildings, a huge garden, fruit trees to climb, ditches to play in, an old camper for a playhouse and limitless possibilities for the day. Our imaginations had the freedom to run wild. We played all day and only stopped long enough to eat. We played rescue mission on our fixer-upper bikes, lifeguard on the old rope swing, cops & robbers and spies high up in the trees. Fishing at least twice a week.

It makes me sad to think that my nephews will never have the same chance to experience these things in their childhood. The property has been sold and their grandparents still work full-time.

So, today as I bought a bag of apricots for a ridiculously large sum at a local fruit stand, I longed for my childhood. When we had bushels of every fruit and vegetable imaginable to eat. When all that good food seemed to magically appear and I had no idea that it was bought with my grandparents' hard work and given with immeasurable love.