It started last week when I wanted to write something to my cousin who was turning 70. Something worth reading. We were invited to a small, family gathering and it was so special to be included.
So, the memories were flowing. We had grown up just a few blocks from each other and spent many birthdays, holidays and just family times together.
We left Bellevue with snow on the ground, but hardly any had fallen as we travelled west.
Our route took a different turn, so to speak, since the 520 bridge was closed for the weekend. So we drove on I-90 and down Rainier avenue. This street I had been on at least 1,000 times. So much has changed. As we got close to Jackson street I remember the service station where Grandpa used to get gas. In those days, the attendant pumped the gas for you.
And there it was..well what is left of it.
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The Shell station... behind that fence... where the man who took care of us had become a friend. He used a cane, he was missing one leg, he called himself "Crip" he was a black gentleman.
Why do I remember that? Well, hasn't our world changed?
The next stop is the Seattle Tennis Club. Right on Lake Washington. A beautiful place. I have been with my cousins to wedding receptions and showers. I think this was the first birthday.
And here she is.... ready for the dessert... But that is part of another story.
I live an exciting life
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