Streets have a way of changing

I was sitting on my parent's front porch after work on Halloween, waiting to see if my dinosaur nephew had acquired any good candy on his first crack at trick or treating.

I could hear the little kids across the street screaming, laughing and having a good time. It made me smile because I remembered all the good times we had as kids living on that street.

I looked each direction on the street where I grew up, and realized how much everything had changed. My parent's house remained the only consistency from my childhood.

To my left was the open lot where I learned to ride my bike, which later held a trailer and family I would baby-sit for, considering I was the oldest kid on the block.

At first, there was just a 5-year-old girl and her brother I had already known from school. After they moved all of their stuff in, the girl walked across the alley to introduce herself. I still remember her wearing a Little Mermaid shirt.

She and my sister would spend the coming years as close friends -- and occasional foes.

Then came her baby brother, right around the time I was old enough to start baby-sitting.

I baby-sat them for years, helped with homework and oversaw many play times on the swing set.

The little girl is now 16-years-old. I couldn't believe it the first time I saw her driving a car.

Diagonally to the south from mom and dad's front porch, my eyes stopped on the large pool in a backyard where there used to be a wooden playhouse.

It was gone now, along with the family and two children that once occupied the house. A young couple live there now.

I once got in trouble for not stopping two young kids from kissing when they decided to get "married" in the playhouse. I am not even sure I was in the backyard when that took place.

One of those kids is about to turn 20-years-old, and I haven't spoken to him in several years.

Diagonally to the north, there used to be a shed in the back yard. The old house and shed have since been bulldozed and a new house built in its place.

The shed had a nice back room where we would play house and school. The two granddaughters of the lady who owned the house loved to play school.

I always sat back and pretended to be the student while the kids -- about 10 years younger than me -- "taught" me about math and reading.

There was another boy in our neighborhood who lived on the highway. Often times a few of us would go over to his house and climb in the rafters of the garage, until his parents would come out and find us, of course.

My favorite memory of all is one of the afternoons my sister and I were riding bikes. There are several large trees along the sidewalk. She turned to look back at me and hit the tree head on.

There were 10 of us in total that came and went on that street. Almost all of us have left, and a new generation has moved in.

The street still seems to be alive with baseball games, soccer and bike rides on long summer days and cold winter weekends.

It seems scary that most of us are grown up and live in our own houses on new streets, and the youngest are nearing high school and graduation.

Although, I know I can take comfort in knowing as my nephew grows up he will be able to make memories on that street during his visits to his grandparent's house.

There are some new kids across the street and I'm sure many more will come and go over the years.

Sabrina is a staff writer for the Greene County Daily World. She can be reached by email at swestfall@gcdailyworld.com and by telephone at 847-4487.