Sunday, September 22, 2013

Sometimes You Can Go Home

I cut the lawn at my parent's house in Lynn, yesterday. We've been trying to sell the old homestead now that both of my parents are gone. We actually rented the place out for a while, however, we thought we had a buyer recently so the tenents moved on. The renters were great people and kept the place looking good. They did shoveling during the winter and cut the lawn throughout the summer. You can say, I had it easy as a landlord.

Anyway, the buyers backed out, the tenents moved on and Jim finds himself cutting the lawn he was quite familiar with 40 someodd years ago. Actually, I don't mind cutting grass - too much. It gives me a chance to really listen to those voices in my head.

Funny thing happened as I mowed the old family estate. I was, all of a sudden, transformed into that 17 year old kid who cut the grass Saturday mornings as part of my family chores. When I was in high school, my old man gave me two things I had to do during the summer cut the grass and take care of the pool.

I suppose there were plenty of times that mowing the lawn seemed like a heavy burden. As fall approached, I do remember not being able to head out to the football game at Manning Bowl until the lawn was cut. Yeah, it sucked being in the back yard and listening to the crowd at the Bowl. The old Manning Bowl was great for crowd noises. We heard them pretty well at the house and we were a couple of miles down Western Ave. I bet you don't get that same effect from Manning Field. That's too bad, another Lynn memory lost to Father Time.

As I was cutting the grass yesterday, there was a moment when in my mind I looked up at the patio and there was my father sitting there having a beer, smiling as I labored over his yard. It was good to see him again even though I was thinking it might be nice for him to pick up a damned rake and lend a hand. It's kinda cool how you can picture things that haven't been for decades. Just up and down that yard, maybe for one of the last times ever, life as a teenager and a son came flooding back to me. Hey, it was one of those moments, what can I say.

1 comment:

Dottie said...

Wow Jim...I was just telling some people at dinner here how good it was to have been a little kid raised by the "village" that was our parents and their treasured friends. I have such an image of your Dad right now, that smile, a beer in hand gently mocking you as you mowed. He/they knew it was the simple things like that which would make us responsible people that pulled our own weight. But, it was also their sense of humor that made the medicine less bitter too. Glad you had the 'moment'...