Not everyone gets to grow up on Mayall Street. Some have to grow up on Devonshire Street or Lassen Street or Topeka Drive or even Tampa Avenue.
And some of those who get to live on Mayall Street have to move away before it’s time to go to Nobel Junior High or Chatsworth High.
But not me.
I got to live on Mayall Street. I mean really live on it.
I got to hang out with my sister.
And do dangerous things…
Like ride a bike…
And jump very high.
Dad built us a treehouse where we could eat McDonald’s and oranges… I fell out of it once.
He also built us a swingset. We needed a wheelbarrow to get up to one of the swings. I broke the slide in my Superman Underoos one evening.
I learned to take chances at the house on Mayall Street (that’s right, I’ve only got one hand on the bike!)…
And found about 300 Easter eggs. But then I blinked…
And graduated…
And came back once or twice a year to the house on Mayall St…
to play with the next generation…
The girl in this pic is the same one who was sitting on the back porch step with me in the second pic of this post.
and the old one.
Zach has lived his first nine months in Kansas. He’ll never have a house like mine on Mayall Street, a house where he can look in the backyard and remember the best spot to dig for worms. We just found out the military is moving us to Alaska this summer. And we will work at building him a home.
I walked around that front yard just a couple months ago…trying to soothe our post-flight-over-tired frantic baby. Did your dad walk you around that same yard when you wouldn’t go to sleep as a baby?
Zach will know a happy, constant home as long as we love each other and God well.
You were a good one-handed bike-rider, Babe!
A great post, it is always great to look back, but you are right time does seem to go very fast at times.
Zach may not live a house like the one on Mayall Street, but…
As long as he has you, Zach will have a wonderful home…
Blessings – Maxi
Great recollections! And you do know how great it was to have grown up there. That’s living with your eyes open! Your kids will have equally warm memories and feel just as fortunate because of who you are. Thank for sharing!
This was a beautiful post. I’m glad you loved your childhood home so much. Everyone should be so lucky!
Delightful post! Don’t we always remember our childhood home/s with nostalgia? Or at least I hope people have had a happy enough childhood to feel that way. I know I do.
This is awesome! I love your Blog. Thanks for sharing – it is very inspiring to me.
I suspect that though the house and the neighborhood and being their your entire life was special, it was the people that welcomed you home and loved you there everyday of your life were what gave you the security and confidence you will now give your son wherever you go. Home is wherever those you love are.
Oh, I suspect the family may have had something to do with it. The bike track in the backyard was special, too.
They say you can never go home again, but you kept doing that, and for all the right reasons. in person and in all your vivid memories. I love the part where you say “…..Zach… willl never have a house where he can look in the backyard and remember the best spot to dig for worms”. This post is very special.
We’re still here at the house on Mayall Street. You’re welcome to come anytime to make new memories. Someday, you can show Zach where to find those worms.
My dad is still in the home he bought in 1963. My bedroom is now (and has been for quite some years) his office…but HE’S still there! My kids, on the other hand, have lived in two different countries and 12 different houses/apartments. And its’ funny ~ but my kids have much more of a sense of home than I ever did! As others have said, it’s so much more about who’s there and what you’re building together than where you are….but if this blog is any indication of who you (and your wife with her oh so sweet comments) are…you already know that!
Great post. My own mom sold the family home of 43 years on Mohawk Avenue in 1998, moving to Virginia to follow the first grandchild. Mohawk Avenue will always be “home” for us, but in truth, “home” is wherever my mom is (my dad died when I was young).
Thanks for liking my post
your blog is really sweet
This is a wonderful post. Childhood and the people, places, and things that we attach to it is so magical and so individual. I had my own street (and there is none other like it) but this still made me want a house on Mayall Street.