I remember

I remember

441 ocean

I was around eight years old when my parents moved us.  It was after their separation had ended.  Now we were all living in the same place again; at least for a while, until dad kinda left or was kicked out. That’s another story.  The building was huge. The apartments were big too.  There were two entrances for the building. As a result, our entrance was not the same as our address. The two sides only connected in via the basement.  If only I couldof had my own room…aaaaahhh. Oh well.  Good thing the room was big enough for my sister and I to not be on top of each other.

The kitchen was cool because it was open on both ends.  Though mom didn’t like it, we ran through/around the kitchen. What kid wouldn’t.  I remember the agent showing us the place.  The room that was labeled as the living room, my mom decided to use as a master bedroom for her and daddy. This turned a two-bedroom apartment into three.

Well I’m twelve now and doing the JHS/Middle School thing.  I know the area well. Prospect Park is in walking distance (see pic link below).  Many days we did.  At our entrance were African street musicians. Less than ten feet from them was another group of dancers and musicians from the Caribbean. Did I mention McDonald’s?  We had to pass it. You know we picked up french fries and a shake.  Yep!  I remember them having Banana as a flavor.  Mmmm. Not only did we walk there from our building, but we would also ride our bikes with our father.  There was another park too.  We rode our bikes to that one also.  This activity was great for me since I loved junk food.  This park had tennis courts and so much more.  My father liked to watch the baseball games.  I liked to watch the boys watching me.

Speaking of boys. So my bedroom window was on the side of a small street of houses. There were some boys that my sister and I thought were cute. Don’t know what made me do it, but we sneakily gave our phone number through the window to those boys.  We didn’t consider the fact that they would call and my mother would answer the phone.  Well, they did.  Yes, she did. Done.  Was it embarrassing to have your mother tell some guys off that you were trying to look grown to? Yep.  Did it stop the guys from still trying to get to know us better? Nope.  What can I say — I was am a very attractive girl.  Had to alter that cause wouldn’t want anybody to get it twisted.  This one here can still turn heads, even if I have one gray strand. Ssh. Don’t tell my sister.

Back to being twelve, which is the focus of this post.  The 11th day’s focus is to tell about the home I lived in when I was twelve.  The place I lived when I learned of Jesus’ love and counted it not foolery to return the favor. The place I spent days and nights creating stories that no one would read.  The place during the time of my life that I learned more about me.  Somehow around this time I developed many prejudices.  I determined who I would and would not speak to, caring not for the color card. I wanted a future.  My future was bright.  Being around riff-raffs did not seem to be right. Though I greeted people I passed.  I even held the elevator for them too. But parties? No. Hanging at the crib? No. Coming to understand that evil communication corrupts good manner, made me cautious. I wasn’t the wisest, but a thinker for sure.

Yeah, I was an interesting child in a cool neighborhood.  I liked having so much in walking distance.  There were Greek diners and Italian pizza shops. West Indian food was quickly making itself known and I was loving it back.  Fresh fish and fried fish and candy stores too.  What did the things in the last sentence have in common? I guess I treat candy as food. Train stations nearby and so many boutiques. Certainly a library too.  It was a pretty cool place.  Very accessible for family and friends to visit.  Parking on the other hand was not so easy.

Speaking of size matters, it does.  They don’t build apartments like that anymore. Very spacious indeed. Just ask the relatives who came by for the holidays.  Well I guess they came not only because our place was bigger than most/all of theirs but my mother was the best overall cook too. You should see my aunts and uncles in the kitchen and dining room offering to help clean up.  That was their way of packing up extra food, even stuff that was not on the menu. Lol, my fam.

Well that’s all for now. I hope you enjoyed my time of sharing.

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