The good old days?

Woke up about 1 A.M. today and couldn't get back to sleep for awhile. For some reason I flashed back to a childhood memory -- growing up in my favorite house on Rockford Court in Ventura, California. From a worldly perspective, it was in many ways an "ideal" place. We lived on a cul-de-sac. Very safe neighborhood. I made many good friends in that neighborhood. We played many baseball games after dinner. And hide and seek. And we played in our tree fort behind our house. The guys would play army. When we got our bikes we rode all over the area, putting playing cards in the spokes to make cool noises. I even rode my bike with a bunch of my buddies to St. Catherine's parochial school during 5th and 6th grade -- about a three mile ride. And we never worried about being molested.

My older sister got to stay outside with friends. My mom told her to just be in by dark. For many years the neighbors in our court had a court party once a year -- late in the afternoon on the last day of school. Parents would put out tables of food and drink. One of our neighbors owned a dairy. At our court party he parked his dairy truck right next to the tables where we ate. I still can taste that cold chocolate milk that he brought for the kids to enjoy.

I loved Rockford Court. The weather was so pleasant and therefore we were outside so much. I wonder if we spent all this time outside with friends not just because of the weather but also because we didn't have home computers, the internet, video games and cable T.V. There was much less to keep us inside.

Last night as I mused about my childhood, I even thought of writing a screenplay for a movie about my upbringing. But it wouldn't be all ideal. We had our fights. Some families in our court eventually went through a divorce, including mine. And I can recall how mean I was to one neighbor down the street that lived in a poorer area. Those "good old days" seemed so trouble free -- partially because we idealize those times, and forget about the problems and conflicts.

Two weeks ago I was in my home town. Susan and I were with our son, his girlfirend, our daughter and her friend. We visited a community church on Sunday and on the way to my brother's house, I swung by Rockford Court and showed them our house. Some yuppie types were in their yards, staring at us as we slowly drove around the circle as I told my family about a couple memories. It made me sad in a way. Such great times we had. But those days are gone.

Don'twant to hang onto these moments or recreate them? Carefree summer days as a kid. Being a freshman at college. Our wedding day. The day our children were born. Buying our first house...our first car. Launching our career. Having grandchildren.

I'm thinking that these good memories, selective as they may be, provide us glimpses of that paradise we lost in the garden but that we as believers in Jesus will one day reclaim in that new heaven and the new earth. That new "neighborhood" will be far better than any childhood experience that we ever had. Even my Rockford Court days.

Jim