childhood friends

Remembering June

lillian2 Comments

I recall being always happy in the early years of my childhood. Playing house with dolls, parading down Melrose Avenue in dress-up clothes, riding my tricycle, running through sprinklers and drinking from the garden hose – all with my best friend, June. As we progressed to first and second grade we climbed Mrs. Jester’s apple trees, held hands as we walked back and forth to West Elementary School, made chalk drawings on the sidewalk and played hopscotch too. I loved sleepovers at June’s house, looking with wonder at her sister Auberdene’s dressing table filled with lipsticks and perfumes. We’d sit in June’s living room and watch Roy Rogers and Gene Autry on the black-and-white tv while eating a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches. Once every summer, my mom bought a box of popsicles and doled them out to June and I and other kids on the block. Everyone fought over the red ones. I always had the yellow ones to myself. I guess nobody else liked banana.

childhood memories
friendships frozen in photos
long faded by time


Writing this to say Happy Birthday on June 15th to my dearest childhood friend, June Zitka Trentacosti. June is on the left in both these photos.

The Innocence of Youth Unveiled

lillian8 Comments

We were raised in families where the television show “Father Knows Best” was also the way of the household. Travel happened twice a year for me: a visit to my grandparents’ home in Florida and a vacation week in the Wisconsin Dells. I always sent her a postcard. It never dawned on me that I lived in a white privileged world and she did not.

I went to college and she left home. She took jobs where she found them. Eking out a living, then moving on. She sent postcards along the way. In 1963, from DC. She’d heard MLK’s “I Have a Dream”. In 1969, from the Catskill Mountains. She’d found love and acceptance at Woodstock. “The granites and schists of my dark and stubborn country have accepted me. My new partner and I can be ourselves here. Come visit!” I never did.

Image by Karl Egger from Pixabay

Written for Prosery Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Prosery Mondays are the only prompts where writers are asked to write prose, not poetry. We’re given a line from a poem and we’re asked to insert it, word for word, within a piece of flash fiction that is 144 words or less in length. Today Merril gives us the line “The granites and schists of my dark and stubborn country” from Nan Shepherd’s poem “The Hill Burns”

The Innocence of Youth Unveiled is fiction. It is not autobiographical.