Neighbors

America is full of neighborhoods. Some good, some not so much. I miss the days when a neighborhood was a family and communities came together. Now I know there are still some places like that but it's not the norm like it was in decades past.
I was blessed to move next to neighbors as a young child. They would become not just neighbors but life long friends. The kind where there is a permanent path between houses. The kids play, the adults talk and all of you would drop anything to help each other out. We played night games and ran around the neighborhood always feeling safe. A  soccer game in the back or a game of pickle in the middle could happen on any given day. We built forts and went sledding in the winter, puttered around the summers playing whatever our imaginations could come up with. Our families intermingled as if we were of one family. We grew up together, learned about life together and how to be a friend. Childhood memories are sacred. They are something that shapes us and something to look back on. The friends and experiences we have as kids tend to shape us into who we are. I'm thankful for the gift I was given. The friends we make early on whether we keep in touch or not will always remain a part of us. No matter the time or distance between us, the bonds will always remain as if no time has passed.