Member-only story
How Can I Help You Say Goodbye
Stories from Childhood
I saw the car being loaded with memories made in California as my best friends slowly loaded in, it was the summer before eight grade, and I had faced loss before, my Dad’s Mom two days after Christmas when I was five, she had a feeling at the time, because she had bought me a small fortune worth of Barbie Dolls, and my Mom’s Dad when I was almost nine, both were of course traumatic events, and I have fond but vague memories of both my Dad’s Mom, and my Mom’s Dad, but I was older by the time I watched my friends load into that old station wagon, and drive away, no more sleepovers, or trips to Nonna’s, it was like loosing a piece of myself and for years we lost contact completely, though we’d reconnect years later through Facebook, unfortunately one of those friends, would pass away just a couple of years after we reconnected.
After they left, I sifted through the garage, because they had left a few treasures for me to remember them by, pictures that I would cling to, memories of these friends who had helped me through the pain of the closest friends you had moving away. I felt that I had lost a piece of myself that day, a part of my childhood.
