Summers spent on a farm. Picking fresh food from the garden (peas, beans, rhubarb, raspberries, and any other fruit or vegetable you can imagine). Sitting on my grandfather’s lap driving a tractor across the land to pick plums. Visiting the dairy farm (quite often and watching the Sound of Music on said farm while drinking fresh milk). Swimming in the neighbour’s pool. Collecting mail from the “post office” which was someone’s dinning room altered to look like the mail room in Jim Carrey’s version of the Grinch. Going to the general store, quite literally the only store around that sold everything from gas to fresh groceries. Bingo at the fire department with actual daubers. “Cook outs” where meeting new family members was customary. Visiting the community centre (an old one room school house converted) for jamborees of live music and homemade food. Climbing trees. Hanging clothes to dry. Playing badminton in the yard. Being 100%, absolutely terrified that the cellar hid dark, evil beings while the pantry, on the other hand, was a place of creation and life. Feeding the horses and every other critter. Kitchen parties. Baking without recipes or measurements. Living with all the indoor plants you could imagine. Dancing to blue grass while Papa listened on his old radio. Feeding chickens and cows. The memories you can’t fake. The memories you can’t relive no matter how hard you try. The memories you will never forget.
I had an amazing childhood experiencing love in so many ways. Traveling to visit family in another country. Traveling to compete or watch my sister compete. Participating in parades. Although it’s not the same today, going home still evokes a level of welcome and love I cannot express.
Those were some of my memories on my grandparent’s farm. Every time I go home I connect with friends I’ve had since I’ve had memories and family (sometimes ones I’ve never met before) that can never be replaced.
To say I was a lucky child is an understatement.
Nostalgia is strong some days. To be carefree with family eating fresh food and listening to live music is my safe place. Add in an ocean and that is my dream life.
I was very fortunate. Not everyone has the same ideal past I choose to remember. And that’s okay. Who you were and what you remember made you who you are today. I choose to remember the happiness. I hope you do too.
Oily Minded Medic 