Perhaps you live in the same town in which you were born. Likely, you do not. Ron was born in Elizabeth, New Jersey, earning him the name “Florida-Yankee” from my father.  A few weeks ago, we had the privilege of traveling to Ron’s hometown where we listened to snippets of past events that shaped my husband into the man he is today.

Hearing Ron describe the way things were I sensed a chapter in his childhood unfolding before me and a glimpse into the boyhood of my man.

Driving through town we came to the schoolyard of Ron’s earliest childhood education. The children and I kept pace with him as he talked of a flag that his father had donated to the school, his school day routines, and one incident in particular:

Little Ronnie’s mom came to pick him up after school. Not noticing the paper he proudly held bearing an A, his mom became quickly mortified to find that he had spent the day with his shoes on the wrong feet. As promptly as dismissal, his mother spared no time in correcting the blunder. As soon as he and his brother were piled into the family’s red Pinto, poor Ronnie changed his shoes returning them to the proper places.

It may be that memories of shoestrings abound, however the pictures of the donated flag made the photo album.

Looking at the flag once more, I pondered how our Garden State journey had only begun but the memories we traveled spanned a lifetime.

More to come…