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Packing Up My Childhood Adventures

Posted by Joe Baker on 29 May 2012 / 6 Comments

There is something deep, profound, and transcendental about packing up the house that I grew up in. I am flooded with emotions as I dig through my closet and discover different little objects that I have held onto.  To anyone else these things look like junk or childhood toys but many of them represent different stages of my life.  Ann and I have spent the last month slowly working our way through the house packaging boxes and helping my parents move.  They are excited to move from Pennsylvania to Illinois to live near my brother’s family. In the process of doing this I have discovered pictures and letters from friends that I have lost touch with.  I packed an album of photos from high school today and just seeing the images of my teen girl friend evoked the joys and the heartache of that season. Talk about being head over heals.

The world seemed so much bigger and brighter back then.  Seeing a photo of some of my best friends in elementary school brought back memories of the good old days when the biggest decision of the month was which tree should we use to build our rope swing over the creek.  I even found my secret stash of fire works that I smuggled into the state. Man ,did that ever make me a neighborhood hero.  Filling the mailbox across the street with smoke bombs was a lot funnier at twelve.  I’ll never forget setting my hair on fire at the Perkasie tunnel, falling out of the tree that broke both my arms in Menlo Park, or blowing up the hornets nest by the covered bridge (ouch).  Oh the memories of catching animals and climbing everything.
I live pretty close to my heart and knowing that my childhood house will become the property of someone else in four days is an emotional experience.  I mean, I’ve had some of my greatest and worst moments in this house and in this town.  This was the base for all of my greatest adventures and the area where all my closest friends live.  I’ve racked my gear in the family room a hundred times.   Seeing my life packed in boxes is somewhat surreal.  It’s like hitting rewind for a moment.  Theres a little seven year old red head who will be making my old bedroom his.  It is my prayer that he will experience as many wonderful blessings as I did.  I also pray that his parents love and encourage him to follow his dreams.  Maybe one day he will be looking back with a smile too.