Old streets and things...

This morning I woke a little earlier than normal.  But as normal, I stayed in bed and thought.  For who knows what reason, I thought of my earlier years when I first lived in Bowmanville.  And I thought how interesting it was that although I had only lived there for thirteen years, those years are perhaps the ones that I not only remember most, but they give me the oddest sense of "missing".

I remembered most the streets that lived near by me at the time.  As I lay in bed I walked through so many of them in my mind... Concession, Lover's Lane, Wellington, Liberty, Division, and that one just around the corner... oh, what was it's name?  

I remembered working at a nursing home on Church St...I took in food supplies, and redid their rather not-very-good-looking gardens.  There was an older lady there who always said "Has to be, has to be."  I could never figure out why.  At one of their annual staff dinner nights, they surprised me by giving me an Employee of the Year gift, just because I loved working on the gardens.

I remember going down Lover's Lane on my way to pick up my paper route papers.  They were dropped off at an older house with a veranda. The man who lived there was the principal of my school.  The lady a teacher.  My Mom would knit things and my sister and I would deliver them to the house.  So I felt okay sitting on the veranda and taking my bundle of papers and stuffing them in my paper bag.  Then I would deliver those papers to... horrors... houses with dogs.  I've never liked houses with dogs.

I remember one summer when I worked at the Bowmanville Foundry with Dad.  Every morning, six days a week, we would walk at 6:45 in the morning, to the end of our street.  We didn't talk much in the mornings.  It was good just to be together.  And then Tom, the Foundry owner asked if I could work for a few weeks at his house.  To paint the fence, clean windows, and redo his gardens.  Perhaps he knew I liked to garden.  I loved the work because I could be outside.  His house was just around the corner from our house.  I wonder now who lives there and if the flower beds have changed much.

When Dad passes I will go back to Bowmanville.  To the funeral home near the old house.  I hope I'll be able to find time to walk around a bit.  To visit old streets and bring back old memories.