the city of bridges

Every once in a while I get a hankering to return to the city of my birth. It's not a big city, but it's friendly, down to earth and real. It's a town with a nice, easy, warm vibe.

Something draws me back here ... if I don't drop by every once in a while, I get a yearning to return. Maybe there is something comforting about revisiting one's childhood.

Returning to my youth, I visit my old neighbourhoods ... Main Street & Broadway, Greystone Heights, Eastview ... I stop by to see old landmarks of my childhood, like Alvin Buckwold Elementary School, The Tube I used to walk through to get to school when we lived at 103 Spinks Drive, The little strip mall where I got my Pixie Sticks and competed in spinning top competitions.

A walk through Kinsmen Park invokes memories of warm memories of my dad and me; and I try to envision the type of life my parents lead living here so many years ago.

Purely by chance, the radio station as we drive around in the rental car is playing oldies from my childhood on "The Sunday Sock Hop" ... it's funny how some songs take us right back to where we were long ago ... for me: Green Tambourine / Itchycoo Park / Happy Together / Spooky / Little Green Bag / San Francisco ... these songs invoke memories of childhood ... of my first crush ... of childhood innocence ... my first memories of music ...

I remember many of the struggles of childhood ... perhaps that helps when I work with some of the students I work with these days.

I remember the bitter cold ... being bundled up for the long trek to school. I remember hot summer sun and trips to Pike Lake or the local public swimming pool and lining up at the concession stand for taffy.

Of course it's wonderful to visit with relatives that still live here ... I miss them, and think of them often ... it's beautiful to be able to spend time with them.

Nothing lasts forever, and one of the icons of a childhood event may soon be relegated to a memory. The Victoria Bridge has been closed, and will likely not be repaired. It's sad in a way ... it would have been nice to see it restored ... but probably not practical to do so. One has to let go of the past, as change is only thing constant in the universe.

When I was a kid, I had my tonsils out. My parents got me a little kiddie car after getting the procedure, and I remember riding down to this old iron bridge.

I was born here in Saskatoon, and spent about a quarter of my life here ... then lived in Winnipeg for many years ... a prairie boy - through and through ... I know of windchill, block heaters, ice scrapers ...

I don't live in the past, but I think it's ok to revisit it once in a while ... if nothing else, to remind yourself of where you came from ... we are, after all, who we are in many respects because of our past. All the things that helped make us who we have become are behind us, and while we can't change them, it can sometimes be kind of comforting to remind ourselves of our origins.