Big Adele

When I was a little girl, I loved to play “house” and “school.” Like most little girls, I had a pretend name that I used for both imaginary worlds. I wanted my playmates to call me ADELE. I’m not really sure where I heard the name, or why I liked it so much, but it was my favorite for a long time.

We lived next door to three boys - Michael, Daniel and Patrick. Daniel was only a year older than me and we were the best of friends. I had a creek next to my house and he had a wooded area at the back of his. These became the worlds where we invented, imagined and even kissed once! We spent hours renovating forts and creating adventures.

My family moved away when I was twelve and I had not been near the neighborhood in well over twenty years, but had the occasion to go near it while visiting a friend recently. So, on the way home, I drove past the house where I lived as a child.

The home was clean and well groomed, and there was macadam on the driveway where only stones used to be, but I was amazed at how small it all seemed. In my mind's eye, it was a vast yard, a sprawling lawn where endless games had been played and countless small animals discovered. My adult eyes saw the fence, calculated the acreage, and decided that the one car garage probably hindered its resale value.

I parked my car and stared.

I’m not sure what I felt much beyond the feeling of being big. Try as I did, I could not seem to see the house the way I used to only the day before. I wanted the childhood picture back in my brain and, for a second, I was sorry I had stopped.

On the drive back home, I wondered what else I insist on seeing as bigger than it really is. And in the next moment, or twenty years, I pondered what I perceive as small and bordered simply because I am all grown up.