It’s that time of year again. That clean scent is back in the air, daffodils are popping up everywhere, and it’s raining, raining, raining. I’m not awake enough in the morning to remember an umbrella, but as I was walking the block from my parking lot to our office building I was suddenly overcome with nostalgia for our downtown library (which is, ironically, right across the street from my office).
When I was little, the highlight of my week during the spring and summer was when Mom would take us downtown. She scraped up change out of a yellow plastic cup she kept on top of the fridge and we rode the bus to the Green. We walked from the Green to the library, which was my favorite place. I could have anything I wanted, if only I just took the time to look for it. I basked in the old scent of the books — no scent compares, even now — and the wood shelves. I could get lost in those rows and rows of books. I fell deeply in love with the library and my little plastic library card.
After we picked out two or three books each (sometimes more), we would walk to Dominic and Pia’s, a little hole in the wall pizza place that has been around since Mom was a kid. They have the best pizza in the world, hands down. Just go ahead and try to change my mind. Dominic and Pia are an Italian couple. The entire restaurant is run by family and has gained its reputation strictly by word of mouth. There is barely ever a free table, and the little place usually has a long line during lunch and dinner. (I actually just recently went there for lunch with my parents, and both Dominic and Pia were still cooking. They’ve got to be in their seventies or eighties by now.)
When we were finished eating (which was always awesome because it was one of the few times we were allowed soda), we would walk back to the Green and ride the bus home. We’d spend the afternoon reading our new books and looking forward to the next trip. Those are the days I will always think of when I envision happiness, safety, love, and fun. Those are the days that will always immediately come to mind whenever I think of my childhood.
What’s your favorite childhood memory?
