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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Steve Christilaw: Wistful childhood memories created, if given the chance

It’s hard not to feel envious of kids over the summer.

The lazy, carefree summers we enjoyed as children stay with us, and it’s the memory of those summer days that makes us feel wistful when cues come wafting our way: the smell of freshly cut grass, the aroma of barbecue hanging in the air from a neighbor’s grill and the scent of suntan lotion lingering from the kids who’ve spent the day at the lake or the pool.

Summertime nostalgia is a powerful thing.

How great would it be to once again spend long, summer days at the park, playing pick-up game after pick-up game. To eat huge slices of watermelon without caring where the juice falls or the spit seeds land. To ride a bike just for the feel of the air blowing through your hair.

To play summer baseball all day long without a care in the world beyond getting your next turn at bat would be a heady experience – especially when we’re at an age when we can get winded walking from the parking lot to the grocery store. And to spend summer nights watching the Spokane Indians play ball without worrying about having to make it to work the next morning.

These are the memories that come back with a heavy sigh.

I watch the grandkids playing in the yard and remember what it was like to feel so carefree. To soak each other with water pistols and fill the air with soap bubbles and peals of laughter.

It never gets old and never fails to bring a smile to my face. If I could bottle the feeling, I could make the world a much happier place.

I will admit to entertaining thoughts about how these youngsters will miss out on the summers we used to enjoy.

Many of the places we enjoyed as kids are no longer there. The A&W where we used to hang out, quaffing icy cold mugs of root beer and downing countless cheap Coney Dogs has been gone for decades. The beach park we used to ride our bikes to closed down about the time the Mama and Papa burgers went away. And those vacant lots we turned into our field of dreams are now a strip mall or, worse, a parking lot.

Even some of the schools we attended are long gone. Argonne Junior High went away, replaced by a supermarket. The tennis courts we learned on are now a loading bay.

It’s easy to walk down memory lane and see how things have changed. And while we can lament what is no longer there, it serves no real purpose in the here and now. For good or bad, things are what they are.

Our parents felt the same way. As did their parents. It’s a parent thing.

It turns out that kids can still have idyllic childhoods anywhere and everywhere you give them a chance at having one. In Brooklyn, in Philadelphia and in San Diego, kids have the kind of childhood that will have them waxing philosophic about their own kids and grandkids decades into the future.

Put children together on a summer day and they will find something to do. They will get dirty and sweaty, they will find trees with ripe fruit and end up with juice both in and on themselves.

They will learn to swim and attempt to spend an entire day in the water. Give them half a chance and they will learn to fish – whether they have a rod and reel or make their own from a stick, a string and a fish hook.

And if you give them a chance, they will fall in love with sports, from soccer and baseball to golf and tennis.

That’s the key. Give them half a chance and they will make their own memories – memories they will one day get wistful about on a summer evening.

Steve Christilaw can be reached at steve.christilaw@gmail.com.