It is funny how our views of a place are colored by our children. We used to live in Bristol, RI, only 20 minutes from Newport. We are going on a quick weekend visit to the place where Alex was born and the only home Nicholas remembers before Connecticut. Am I remembering the long walks by the shore or that tavern on the corner where we once met friends? Do I remember leisurely cups of coffee at Starbuck’s? No. My memories are of the first day Eskimo King opened for the “season” every year and the moments we discovered Del’s was up and running. That’s when we knew summer was almost here.
Some of my fondest memories are of the Bristol Commons with the beautiful playground and large open space where Nicholas could run around without leaving our site. And, of course, we cannot forget the Big Blue Bug along 195. Nicholas squealed with delight each time we came upon it on our way to or from our home in Bristol.
I know I sometimes wish I had “adult time” to spend creating memories of relaxation and peace, but then I will remember the Chowder Cook-off through the eyes of one of my children and wish they were little again.