The old neighborhood
Saturday morning we made a trip to our old neighborhood in Denver. We walked around the alleys and streets and stopped by to play at the neighborhood park. We walked by our old house to check it out, wish it well, and reminisce about the old days. Our favorite diner, The Ranch House Cafe, fed us. Before heading back home, we restocked on library books.
Each of us has their own version of the places we’ve lived in their memory and imagination. I’ve been thinking a lot about how many of my memories are heavily influenced by photos and stories that were told long after the event. I’ve cobbled my version of my life together from a hodgepodge of old memories, stories I’ve told and been told, and photos. The more time that passes, the more I rely on old photos and even the memory of the old photos I lost along the way. The kids are too young to have a lot of solid memories of the past. They’ve built their own narratives about everything.