Today I took a trip down memory lane.
My aunt and uncle are here from the States for a visit. I took the boys and went to see them. They are staying in Toronto in the area I grew up. Willowdale, by Bathurst and Finch.
It is funny, because as I drove by the old neighbourhood, I felt warm fuzzies.
I lived there from age 2 - 10 years old. It was the area my parents came and settled after moving from India.
Not much has changed in the neighbourhood. Everything looks aged and a bit more run down. Then there are the properties that have been torn down and replaced with new structures.
I have so many memories of this area. Walking home from school with my brother, throwing snow balls and ducking out to avoid pelts of snowballs. The big piles of snow after a snow storm, and falling into the pile and disappearing... Going across the road and getting the best pound cake at the bakery (that was gone now).
When I think of this time in my life, I have child-like memories. I think during this time, I did have worries about my dad's temper tantrums but life was busy and full and I was busy being a kid.
I have memories of swimming in the pool at our apartment (no pool there anymore), walking home from school, discovering a milk pod (I love those things), hanging out with my friends, who lived next door to us in the apartment.
I love how I was unaware of how wore out the buildings were. Bugs were just a part of life. Everyone dressed in mismatched clothes. I don't remember wanting for things. I remember feeling content.
Maybe that is why I love driving back there. I don't go there very often. So it is always a neat feeling when I do go back.
I have this distant memory of walking across the street to the store with my dad, holding his hand. That memory always comes back. I have another one of my having a febrile seizure around the age of 9, and my dad carrying me to the ER. I have this distinct memory of being held by him in the elevator. I didn't want him to know I was awake, so he would continue to hold me.
Funny, the things that creep back to memory. It was a nice morning, going back down memory lane.
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