Nostalgia personified

My last night in the US, maybe forever. I am not sure I'll ever be back. An emergency with my daughter would be a good reason to come back, although an emergency is anything but good.

I've captured some hodgepodge photos of new and old memories of our I'll show you my childhood, if you show me yours trip.

It has been wonderful to see people that I would never see otherwise. There were many others I wanted to see but there was no time. I tended to see those that will not visit me in Europe or can meet up some place in Europe.

Meeting Rick's family was wonderful and seeing where he grew up brought visuals to his stories.

Today was my turn to show him my hometown. Llara was with us. 

This was the cottage where she was conceived. We had wonderful Italian landlords and my daughter's middle name, Kay, comes from my landlady. So many nights when I came home from work, Kay would call, tell me not to cook. Rick I if he wasn't working and I, or me alone would go over to the best Italian food imaginable.


Llara spent only her first year in Reading.

We passed the house where I grew up, at 200 Grove Street. Many of the pine trees have been cut down, but the huge rocks I played on were still there. There is still a Robert Frost stone wall surrounding the property. We had 14 acres of land with apple trees, blueberry patches, and a garden. All the land has been broken up into house lots now.

Rick would have loved to play golf at Meadow Brook Golf Club. As a kid I took lessons there and not always willingly. Saturday mornign cartoons were much more interesting.

My daughter made us a Texmex meal and I met my grand kitty. Scooby II met his dad, but that's another blog.

As we drove around the area Rick noticed that there is a dearth of Street signs...not as bad as Barcelona, however.

Walking and talking with a high school friend, we saw a rainbow in the sprinkler, a good symbol of the trip. It was like a pot of gold.

And we couldn't figure out why there was no arrivals board at South Station where we went to meet up with my old boss.

Red leaves thrilled me. I admire Rick for not saying "enough all ready" as I oohed and ahed over each patch of red. As pretty as the autumns in Switzerland are, they can't match the reds and oranges of New England peeking through the yellows. The drive north to Montreal was like living in a rainbow.

 

We bought more corn on the cob and fresh cider at Russell Farms, where we used to get fresh veggies. It was also where my brother and I would argue over which pumpkin would make the best jack-o'lantern. My mother would toast the seeds for an after school snack.

The Boston State House has special meaning for me, not just because I lobbied there for the Equal Rights Amendment. My grandfather had done some of the structural engineering work when it was being renovated.

Walking through Harvard Yard, we spotted a dig, looking into some of the Indian College artifacts. Harvard Square was where my housemates, Llara and I went to dinner many Saturday nights with coins for the street musicians. We'd load up at the bookstores for our reading matter during the coming week.

It is impossible to recapture several decades of living in a few days. It is possible to say good bye and be at peace with the decision.