“A place from your past or childhood, one that you’re fond of, is destroyed. Write it a memorial.” -The Daily Post
Go Pikachu- attack!
When I was in the third grade, I used to yearn for the day that my parents would give me permission to go over to my neighbor’s house to watch Pokemon on TV at 4:00. My neighbor and I were best friends and even though we had different teachers in school, we would hang out after school all of the time. His house was great. He had these chips – I believe they are called bugles? Mmm, they were so good! We would grab the bag, go upstairs, and eagerly sit two feet away from the TV and count down the seconds until 4:00 when we knew KidsWB would begin to play the new episode of Pokemon.
After the episode ended, we would talk and in the background, we would be listening to the opening theme song of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that aired at 4:31. At the time, it annoyed me so much. Now, hearing the song brings back so many memories.
After the third grade, my neighbor moved to China with his family but we kept in touch via e-mail. Eventually, in middle school, we got accounts on AIM and kept in touch that way. Now we communicate via Facebook. He went from moving to China to now living in England, and he will be coming back to the USA for college next year. Talk about traveling the world!
His house may still be right across the street but I haven’t been inside of it in almost ten years! Yet somehow, I can still imagine and navigate through his house quite perfectly. It’s funny how the memories we truly care about never seem to vanish even if the actual thing is gone, or say, gets physically destroyed.