Who we were

 

Who were we? We were girls who stretched out, seatbelt-free, in the spacious trunk of our noisy green station wagon, reading, writing in our journals, sharing thoughts. Little girls who fell asleep together even when one of us begged for her own room (not me!). Kids whose headquarters were the swing set in our backyard, a blessed magnet for our neighborhood friends. Two out of a total of four girls with stock phrases like, "Let's not and say we did."

Today we are women headed to my parents' house to pore over artifacts such as this photo (taken by my Uncle Larry at my beloved grandmother's house at the lake in what we then considered Upstate but what was really simply Westchester). 

And we -- I! -- will be forced to part with some of the evidence of a happy childhood, lest we build museums to ourselves (and man am I tempted to do just that).

There are many items at my parents' house that no one needs.

But this artifact? Nah, not going to part with it (which will surprise no one who has read my letter to Marie Kondo).

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