I grew up vacationing with my Grandparents every summer at their home in Southampton, New York.
My grandfather had purchased a house there in the 1950’s, long before it became the mecca it is today for the rich and famous. The house my grandfather owned was situated on a beautiful plot of land with water surrounding it. We grew up collecting shells off the beach, swimming in the pool
or spending the day at the ocean running down the dunes with my father. Days spent fishing on my grandfather’s boat,
where I caught a Bluefish-much to the amazement of my Uncles and Grandfather. I wrote about it here
The house was sold after my grandfather died and the new owners tore it down. An enormous house went up on the property. A few years ago I was in the area and stopped by the new house. The owners were very welcoming and gave me a tour and allowed me to walk around the property and take pictures. The new house bore no resemblance to my Grandfather’s home, it was only when walking up the lawn that overlooks the bay that I felt any sense of nostalgia. I was happy to see the tree my Grandfather had planted when I was born was still standing. He had named it “the Lisa Tree”, and there it stood having outgrown me in its 58 years.
It was time spent with my grandparents, my grandmother who I shared a special relationship with, the summer evenings we would gather on the screened in porch listening to my parents and grandparents talking and laughing, while my siblings and I played games or read- there was no TV reception there in those days so we entertained ourselves.
These traces of my past run deep within, when I think back I always get nostalgic for the world that was then, the child I was, the easiness of the summer days floating by. Happy for the memories of those summers and the smile they still bring to my face when thinking of them.