Today while I was riding my bike around the neighborhood I noticed there were no more kids around. Virginia Street was empty with not a young person in sight. I saw a few neighbors come out, now with white hair and walking around their yard.
I rode up the street and looked back. I pictured all the kids that used to live on my street. Most of them are now married with kids, some ended up in jail, another got pregnant at an early age and gave her son up for adoption, others just disappeared, and now I was officially the last kid on the block.
The ice cream man from my childhood still comes by my street hoping to still find that big group of kids running up to his truck to buy some candy. Every time I see him I wave. He doesn’t know my name and I don’t know his but he’s like a ghost from my past that comes by every so often. I think about how he spent his life being an ice cream man to support his family.
Life changes so fast we don’t even notice its moving. Virginia Street is home to me and next year there will officially be no more kids left on this street.
Listen while you read…