“The Sound of Summer Running,” is what always jumps to mind. Kick-the-Can and Sardines in the dark; rainbows on the wall by the bottom steps in the evenings. Dad’s whistle when he came home. Remember the secret room under the stairs? Is that where the ghost lived? And how many times did I slip on the steps as I rushed to escape the portraits that followed me with their eyes? Dark escapades in the basement—Who turned out the lights! Shari reading bedtime stories with the rest of us sprawled on the beds pretending to sleep with her soft words creating dreams The magic of the cabin.
The garage was a pirate’s treasure-trove. The smell of oil. Jars and boxes filled with loot, nuts and bolts and odd pennies. I remember learning to roller-skate, a million skinned knees! And the time I smashed the tricycle into the cement steps and knocked my front teeth out. Wealth found in the juice glass on the kitchen windowsill. Tag on the monkey bars. Wagon trains away!
Christmas’ to fill my soul with wonder.