My fondest childhood memories were spent with my cousins at my grandparent’s house. It was grandma’s that we were able to run, play, and be children. There were 35 of us, free to explore and live life! My grandparents had a green cornfield next to their home in the dirt lot. I remember running through the field playing hide-n-go-seek, tag, or war, the latter was always fun considering we grew up in a small town next to Camp Pendleton Marine Corp Base. There were olive trees to climb, all sorts of things to keep children occupied throughout the weekend. The weekends flew by, and before we knew it, it was Monday and time for school.
When it was fall and winter, the cornfields turned to a dirt lot; there was no more hide-n-go-seek, it was now kickball, whiffle-ball, and a game of football. We were never bored at Grandmas, and after a fun-filled day, it always ended with the family in the backyard with Grandpa and all the uncles gathered round the barbecue flipping cooking burgers, hotdogs, or on special occasions, carne asada! Think of capturing these voices, shouting at kids, handing them food.
It was a childhood I wouldn’t change for the world, but as we entered our teen years, childhood games were no more and we all went our separate ways. In some sense I miss the times we shared, but those days are behind us. Today we are the uncles and have our own families. We must always charge ahead, and you can never go back because that moment is gone.
“Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower, we will grieve not; rather find strength in what remains behind.”
~ William Woodsworth