I grew up in a very small town. It had about 200 people with 2 bars, a church and a general store. As kids we would spend our days swimming in the local pond and tubing down the river behind our house. We would ride our bikes all over without a care in the world. We left the house first thing in the morning returning only for lunch and dinner. Every Saturday night was bath night and on Sunday mornings we went to church. My mom always cooked a huge breakfast after church and Sunday was always just for family.
Memorial Day started off summer with a parade honoring the veterans. There were church picnics, Fourth of July baseball tournaments and a week vacation at my grandparents house 3 hours away. Labor day weekend marked the end of summer with the town corn roast.
I loved helping my grandmother who lived down the road with her garden and canning. The perk was getting to eat her homemade bread right from the oven. It was the best when the butter just melted onto it. My grandma made everything from scratch, even the butter.
Spending the day at the lake, family reunions, summer drives and going out for ice cream. Lighting our own fireworks display in our driveway, catching fireflies, summer storms and enjoying the rainbow afterwards. I love how happy these memories make me. They are what pull at me each summer to go back home to feel free and live easy again. I love how thoughts of those days can renew me. No matter how far away you go, there is nothing like childhood thoughts to soothe the soul. My wish for my children is when they are grown and gone, they will have some of their own happy memories to go to as well.
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