I no longer live in my childhood home. It was all inevitable, though so what's the big deal? There are a ton of things I already miss like the sound of our stampede when dad ran the bell for dinner- five steps at a time down the stairs and the occasional bump or bruise from an end table and going on runs from my house down 7th avenue past the church and the dog park(I stopped taking Tigger there when I realized he'll forever be anti-social), past the baseball field where my grandpa used to play softball, Northshore pool where I took swim classes, first learned to swim, and aspired to lifeguard when I was old enough oh and remember Joe Boxer? Haha good times. I also met my friend Sage there for the first time and I'll bet that's where I first worked up the courage to jump off the high dive. Next to the pool was the parking lot where I first put the pedal to the metal and drove a car. Last, past the pink Vinoy hotel was Vinoy park where I crowd surfed for the first time to the Shiny Toy Gun's "Le disco" at 97x's first annual Backyard BBQ and attended Warped Tour for the very first time. I would run down the long stretch of sidewalk to the edge of the water and from there I could see the multicolored upside down Pier where I fished for the first time but still to this day have never caught a fish, Albert Whitted Airport where I used to go to air shows with my dad, spa beach where my grandparents first met, and across the bay to Tampa where Kelsey used to live. The sky was so clear and blue It's been etched into my mind in stark contrast to the crisp white sailboats that danced through the water. There on the edge of the sea I would catch my breath...
Today in the shower I started singing "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas" and it occurred to me that that song is rooted in the truth that white Christmases actually do exist and this year I'll get mine. When I drive away from St. Petersburg I'll be crying and smiling at the same time. Crying because I'll be saying goodbye to everything I've truly ever known and hoping that someday I won't be expecting to turn left off of forth and drive down seventh to my green house with a red front door guarded by three tall, prickly palm trees. I'll be smiling because I know I'm going to get my white Christmas.
