One of my earliest memories was as an almost 5 year old little girl going to the hospital for surgery. I had a break in my stomach wall that my diaphragm was attempting to move through and needed to have it fixed surgically. My parents brought me to Albert Einstein Hospital in the Bronx for the surgery. I remember being there, I remember seeing the doctor, I remember being wheeled down the hall to the OR. I was just starting to go under and was crying for my mom. The nurse leaned over to tell me that my mom was right by my side and the nurse’s head was so distorted and large through my anesthetized eyes that I think I passed out! When I awoke in my room, my dad was standing there and a 4 foot multi-colored stuffed snake was wrapped around the track for the curtain around my bed. My parents knew how scared I was and stuffed animals always made me happy and felt safe. My mom was next to me as there was a cot there that she slept in. These were the days that parents got to stay with their kids if they wanted to, on a cot right next to the bed.
In order to get me home, the hospital recommended that my parents use an ambulance as I wasn’t supposed to be jostled much. I asked the ambulance driver if he would put the siren on as we went down my street. He did. I remember so vividly seeing out the back window of the ambulance and my friends on the block were all running down the street behind us. When we got to the driveway and my dad got me out, he stood me up on the porch and my neighbors/friends were standing there cheering that I was home and okay. For all the kids in the neighborhood, this was scary. They didn’t know if I would return, and they didn’t know what happened. I remember one friend asking me if they sowed up my belly button, since my scar was just above the belly button area.
I still can sense the feeling I had standing there seeing these beautiful faces of little kids, so happy to see me and have me home.
As I stood on that porch yesterday for the very last time, that memory flooded back to me. I can see Linda, John, Eddie, Robin and Rhonda, Kathy all standing on the driveway, sidewalk and street waving to me. As I stood on that porch, I remembered my high school boyfriend asking me to go steady and giving me his senior ring. I remembered how 7 years later he asked me to marry him on that porch. I remembered first grade boys sitting on my steps on a Sunday waiting for me to come out to play. I remembered all the different photos that were taken on the front lawn in front of the mimosa tree that my grandfather planted.
As I looked into the street, I could see the 20 kids on the block playing hide and seek and red-light/green-light. I could see the block parties and the 20 families on the block having fun and sharing love, food and games. I remembered the sledding down the hill. My mom always told my brothers to make sure I was safely between them in the sled train. Of course, that wasn’t her smartest comment since my brother Steve loved being last in the train, which put me second to last. I ended up in a lot of snow banks! I can still hear the laughter and the screams of delight.
I walked through each empty room in that house. Memories flooding me. Seeing my grandmother there for every important or what I thought was important moment; proms, dances, etc. I could see our dog Sparky lying right outside the kitchen door so he could see everything going on in the house and at the front door. I saw the 5 of us, my family, sitting around the kitchen table having dinner together just about every night of the week. I saw each niece and nephew being at the house, acting out plays, wearing my dance tutus, laughing, learning to play cards. I saw Sunday mornings when my mom and I would cook breakfast together for the family in what I called the “Sunshine Cafe.” I had menus, a shoebox cash register and took orders. Mom cooked. I saw us sitting together on my parents bed watching the first walk on the moon; watching the aftermath of both MLK and Robert Kennedy’s assassinations. I saw myself lying with my mom on her bed and watching Dallas and Falcon’s Crest on Friday evenings, sometimes with my nephew Jeff. I saw my last time lying on that bed with my mom, 9 days before she died, holding her hand and talking about life and love. That is one of my most treasured memories.
And the holidays. I saw Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners in our dining room, with Aunt Kit and Uncle Tony and my cousins there. I saw my dad’s family and Uncle Tony’s family there in the evening, as we all at turkey sandwiches and continued the party. I remembered New Year’s Eve celebrations when dad and Uncle Tony would drink enough that they would take bromo-seltzer and almost always get into some ridiculous argument.
I stood in the backyard and thought about the snow forts and games that were played back there. I saw the bar-b-cues and even the building of the patio. I remembered Eddie Walls and I jumping up on either side of the fence and having our first 5 year old kiss. Then of course we both got cooties and that was that!
I lived in that house for 23 years. I visited it for the next 37 years. I have loved the home and all it represents for me forever. For me, it represents family, unconditional love, deep connection and fun.
It is just a house. We, as a family, made it a home. But it was and is the only real home I have ever had. It is the only place I have ever felt that safe, that protected, that loved.
I do hope the new owners find that same feeling as they begin their lives on the best street to live! I carry my memories and all that love with me; a beautiful walk down memory lane for me.