My knees crack as I step out of the car, the fresh air feels like home. It feels like we drove for hours, just to pull up to the same old house, the blue paint fading and the white porch chipping. I can’t tell if it was worth it or not,I remembered it being different the past times I had been there. Now it was empty, the trees looked older, the grass not as green. A memory flashed into my mind as I limped my way up the front steps. It was midmorning, everyone scrambling to finish packing, when someone out of the dozen decided it would be a good idea to take a family picture. The photo flashed before my eyes and I smiled, had it really been that long since the whole family had been there together? It had only been a year since I had walked the front steps but even then the memories had never been so clear.
The scent of cigarette smoke filled my nose as the door opened. “Mom, where are you?” my Grammy shouted from the front room. “Is that you Diane?” my great grandmothers faint voice came from upstairs.
The stairs cracked beneath my feet as I stumbled up the steep steps. I opened the furthest door on the left. It was exactly as I had remembered it. Completely pink, with lace and all. I had no sooner unpacked and collapsed onto the double bed when Bampy, my grandfather, hollered up the stairs “Anyone up for a Timmy Ho’s trip?” I ran down the stairs, sliding my sandals on as I walked out the door. Finally, I can have my Tim Hortons bagel and iced coffee I had been craving for over a year.
Driving down the main road all I saw was familiar places, the small little bakery my Grammy swore had the best bread, the Scotia Bank, and of course Archibalds Warf, or as we call it, the boardwalk. Turning into the drive through of Tim Hortons, ordering a dozen Tim Bits, an Ice Cap and bagel, enough snacks to last a few days.
“Where to next?” Bampy asked me. “Can we go and see the girls?” The girls were my 3rd cousins, all around the same age as me. I had pictures of us as toddlers making cookies, and pictures of us as teenagers having movie nights. But all those years in between, they were lost.
Click, click, click, the blinker was on. Turning onto Archibald Ave, passing St. Josephs Church, and parking right in front of the big red house with the wrap around porch. I slammed the door shut running up the big staircase, furiously knocking on the door. Next thing I knew I was bombarded by hugs from the entire family.
After catching up for a while we all decided to go to Sydney Harbour , so we jumped in the car. We had to drive into Sydney. Along the way we passed Swiss Chalet for dinner, and a few jokes told here and there. When we arrived the air was cool along the boardwalk, and you could smell the seafood from restaurants in town. Another image flashed into my mind, I remembered seeing a picture of me as a toddler, sitting in a stroller, eating a slushie, with my baseball cap on hair blowing in the wind, right on this boardwalk.
The sun started to set as we piled back into the car, my eyes felt heavy from a long day of traveling. I couldn’t wait to turn back into the driveway of the little blue house, with the chipping white porch, to run up the creaking stairs and curl up on the bed and just sleep.
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