Tonight I cried. My wailing and laughing echoed through the valley where my little home sits.

I walked a path only remembered by my little children’s size 5 shoes.

Every year when the last rain falls I fear the wet concrete will lose the power it holds over my memory. But alas it all came back to me even more evocative than before.

My old bones rattled and jumped when the sprinklers bolted on. Me and the jovial energy of my youth ran and giggled through the water like it was the only chore left for the day.

I hid from street lamps and avoided every crack on the sidewalk.

My heart did ache when I discovered I no longer had to jump to reach the branches of the trees that crouched over the path. So I closed my eyes and let the leafs sweep my skin and remember my touch once again. They caressed my face so gently I know they were welcoming me back.

The excitement in my body could not be contained as I made my way to the playground where groundies was a Friday night ritual and evading parents was a given.

I sat on the swings and hummed to the song of the wind whipping past my ears.

When dusk had settled and night had fallen the twinkle of the suburbs started to buzz in harmony with the bullfrogs.

I laid in the grass and watched the moon unveil itself from the clouds. It told me of the things I used to wish for upon it’s arrival, and offered to tender my desires once more.

I said my goodbyes to the markers of many an adolescent year and headed back to my childhood home.

As I watched my clompy adult feet wander their way back up, I smiled to myself, safety and security finally found their way back to me.

I spent so long trying to flee from this place. I blamed it for changing me and losing myself. I got so sick of looking at the same benches and trees and street lamps. But within it was me, all of me. I have always been here.

And there at the top of the hill was my little home. Lit up and perfect. Crowded with trees and scars and life.

So much has changed; my childhood friends are no longer here, I can’t call out to my dog sitting on the porch, the lake that was once here is dried up, and I can’t always remember all of my favorite days from youth, but that perfect little house is here and the green vast land of many memories that lie behind it still breathes.