Dear Readers,
Here’s the final post on my September memories.
In September, 1982, my son, Andrew, started kindergarten. Dollie, the Methacton School District bus driver, drove the little school bus up to our driveway to pick up my little student. He insisted on walking to the bus all by himself. As I watched him board the bus on that sunny September morning, I realized my youngest child was growing up and things would never be the same again. We were entering a new phase in the life of our family.
Every September from 1974, when Jude was 5 months old, until 1987, my parents came to visit and stayed the entire month. I loved having my family nearby and Mike enjoyed all the home repairs my Dad made during the visit. We kept every weekend open for family fun.
There were day trips to the PA Dutch Country, where we feasted at family style restaurants, beautiful autumn walks through Longwood Gardens to look at the last blooms before cold weather arrived, and outlet shopping in Reading, PA where Mom purchased clothes for her two grandchildren in Louisville. As the kids got older, we planned weekend trips to New York City, Washing, DC., the Pocono mountains and Baltimore. We had wonderful times on these excursions, eating at special restaurants and staying in different motels. One stormy Saturday night was spent in a couple of train cars in the Red Caboose Motel in a small town in rural PA. My Dad remarked how cozy it was to hear the rain hitting on the metal roof of the train. There was always plenty of good laughs together. Those Septembers were golden and I wanted them to last forever.
The final chorus of my favorite song “Try To Remember” sums it up pretty well:
“Deep in December it’s nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December it’s nice to remember
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December it’s nice to remember
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December our hearts should remember and follow”.
Keep smilin’!
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