My Experience of Returning to the Old Neighborhood

We all harbor our memories--good and bad ones--of the neighborhood where we grew up. Sometimes curiosity takes us back to our old stomping grounds just to see what it's like today.

What is your reaction? Do you get choked up with emotion? Are you filled with relief you got out? Are the old memories dim or jumbled together? Do you even recognize the spot? Do you just shrug, indifferent to another place where you once lived?

We lived in a brown shingle rambler on a street in the 1950s suburbs outside of Washington, D.C. I can recall the civil defense sirens wailing away. I can also recall the sunny sidewalks. But now I stand in front of the same house, and it seems a lot smaller to me. The shade trees towering over me blot out the sun.

But that's not all. I feel no real connection. The neighborhood is well-kept, what you'd call "nice," but I don't register any pangs of nostalgia. It's like a different person than me lived in the rambler. Pity. I wanted to feel something more profound, but it's not to be.

So, I depart for my present home.

By Ed Lynskey
Twitter: @edlynskey
Author of Lake Charles
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