Childhood’s Edge | Paxton says | DONNE TEMPO
Childhood’s Edge
July/20/08 06:51 PM Filed in: Paxton says
Do you have a cherished childhood place? A
magical spot that blends the smells, tastes,
sounds and adventures of your youth into a
perfect pie of memories, fantasies and larger
than life experiences? I do. My memories revolve
around the private community of Hollywood Beach –
six miles from the historic town of Chesapeake
City, Maryland.
My family bought the one room cottage and property before I was born, for a few thousand dollars. They sporadically added on rooms throughout the decades until the abode resembled the House that Jack Built, with two and a half bedrooms, three living rooms and one bathroom – right off of the kitchen. The half bedroom was mine. The other half had become a hallway leading to the newest addition, a veritable speedway in the middle of the night as my parents stumbled through on their long hike to the bathroom. I eventually used large bookcases to effect a wall, and added swinging shutters to emulate a door. It wasn’t the bedroom of my dreams.
It didn’t matter. The Beach was not about
privacy – The Beach was about FREEDOM! In this
sheltered community I gained wings as I rode my
bike throughout the streets, or walked barefoot
to and from the beach alone. I explored woods and
cornfields, paths and dirt roads. I made rope
swings and dug for clay and smashed rocks to
discover their beautiful secrets. By the time
night fell I was covered with dirt, mulberry
stains and freckles. My thick hair would be
tangled and wild, my nose smudged with dust. This
was freedom! It was a heady feeling.
Eventually the world snarled its way into my paradise. I returned each summer, expecting things to be the same – but nothing remains forever. I was growing up, and according to tradition I must now wear shoes, keep clean, and style my hair. When I didn’t conform quickly enough I was teased and ridiculed by my peers. The wild, carefree girl I had been disappeared beneath insecurities and fear – it took decades to excavate her buried dreams.
I avoided The Beach for years, visiting the water only in the dead of winter to walk along her deserted shores. I loved the place in the off season – the quiet, the beauty, and the memories of freedom.
Eventually I had children, and dutifully packed them into the car to visit Grandma – and The Beach. My babies loved it there – and I loved seeing them so filled with joy, playing on the same beach and the same swings that I once loved. Today the nine and ten year olds can walk by themselves to the beach, although they’re not allowed in the water or on the pier unless we’re watching. They ride their bikes all around the neighborhood – the ONLY place they are allowed to ride unescorted. I see them reveling in the same taste of freedom that I once experienced there – and my heart smiles.
We spent the Fourth of July with my mother at The Beach. We joined in the community games – a parade, races for the children, a small carnival. All of my memories of childhood are wrapped up in this place, and now my children will have their own recollections of this place. It’s different now. Everyone has expensive boats, jet skis and other toys. Most folks drive golf carts around the neighborhood, usually carting a cooler filled with their beverage of choice. The small cottages have gone the way of the Dodo bird, replaced by grand residences, and the occasional monstrosity.
It’s different. And yet, for my children, it still offers a rare taste of freedom.
I know the world is still out there, waiting to berate my children with evidence of their faults and shortcomings. My job is clear. I must spend this magical childhood time helping them learn to trust in themselves and in their strengths and talents. They must be strong enough to brush off the world when the world makes them feel small. I have only a few more years until they are at that critical point – until they perch at childhood’s edge.
What might I have accomplished by now, had I not been derailed by doubts and fear? What will my children accomplish – if they have the strength to believe in their dreams?
How magnificent will the world be, when we all have the fortitude and power to follow our hearts?
Here’s to freedom, to dreams, and to the absolute conviction that we CAN make our dreams come true!
Namaste.
My family bought the one room cottage and property before I was born, for a few thousand dollars. They sporadically added on rooms throughout the decades until the abode resembled the House that Jack Built, with two and a half bedrooms, three living rooms and one bathroom – right off of the kitchen. The half bedroom was mine. The other half had become a hallway leading to the newest addition, a veritable speedway in the middle of the night as my parents stumbled through on their long hike to the bathroom. I eventually used large bookcases to effect a wall, and added swinging shutters to emulate a door. It wasn’t the bedroom of my dreams.
Eventually the world snarled its way into my paradise. I returned each summer, expecting things to be the same – but nothing remains forever. I was growing up, and according to tradition I must now wear shoes, keep clean, and style my hair. When I didn’t conform quickly enough I was teased and ridiculed by my peers. The wild, carefree girl I had been disappeared beneath insecurities and fear – it took decades to excavate her buried dreams.
I avoided The Beach for years, visiting the water only in the dead of winter to walk along her deserted shores. I loved the place in the off season – the quiet, the beauty, and the memories of freedom.
Eventually I had children, and dutifully packed them into the car to visit Grandma – and The Beach. My babies loved it there – and I loved seeing them so filled with joy, playing on the same beach and the same swings that I once loved. Today the nine and ten year olds can walk by themselves to the beach, although they’re not allowed in the water or on the pier unless we’re watching. They ride their bikes all around the neighborhood – the ONLY place they are allowed to ride unescorted. I see them reveling in the same taste of freedom that I once experienced there – and my heart smiles.
We spent the Fourth of July with my mother at The Beach. We joined in the community games – a parade, races for the children, a small carnival. All of my memories of childhood are wrapped up in this place, and now my children will have their own recollections of this place. It’s different now. Everyone has expensive boats, jet skis and other toys. Most folks drive golf carts around the neighborhood, usually carting a cooler filled with their beverage of choice. The small cottages have gone the way of the Dodo bird, replaced by grand residences, and the occasional monstrosity.
It’s different. And yet, for my children, it still offers a rare taste of freedom.
I know the world is still out there, waiting to berate my children with evidence of their faults and shortcomings. My job is clear. I must spend this magical childhood time helping them learn to trust in themselves and in their strengths and talents. They must be strong enough to brush off the world when the world makes them feel small. I have only a few more years until they are at that critical point – until they perch at childhood’s edge.
What might I have accomplished by now, had I not been derailed by doubts and fear? What will my children accomplish – if they have the strength to believe in their dreams?
How magnificent will the world be, when we all have the fortitude and power to follow our hearts?
Here’s to freedom, to dreams, and to the absolute conviction that we CAN make our dreams come true!
Namaste.
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