Change Stinks

L'immagine può contenere: 5 persone, persone che sorridono

I was reading ‘The Ambassadors’, daydreaming about this day in 1971, five days before my twelfth birthday.  I’d just moved from Jackson Heights to Lindenhurst, and was forcibly confronted with a blank slate. 

I don’t do change well.  I went from lots of friends to no friends, from St. Gabriel’s in Queens  to Copiage Junior High, then to O.L.P.H., in my new neighborhood. 

Turning twelve would have been creepy and gross enough anyway.  For a kid like me, to have to deal with that much change was beyond scary. I laugh at it now though.  Somehow I did it. 

Welcome back to Rochelle’s FRIDAY FICTIONEERS , even though it’s always a Wednesday.  The preceding is a true story about this day in 1971, with the exception of the Henry James book. I’m not reading that right now.  This week’s photo was contributed by C.E.AYR , one of our regulars The picture above that is quite an all~time favorite of mine, of me, my oldest friends from Jackson Heights, and our mothers, at our First Communion at St. Gabriel’s in East Elmhurst.  They’re the ones I was forced to trade in for absolutely no friends whatsoever in my new neighborhood.

24 thoughts on “Change Stinks

  1. Nobbinmaug says:

    Change is hard. I was lucky as a kid. I was never in that situation. I moved twice as a kid. I think I was three both times. That was probably a good thing. I never dealt well with change, either. Or it was a bad thing. I’ve never really learned to deal with change.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Nan Falkner says:

    We had to move when I was in the seventh grade. A different town and my sister and I were not happy. However, I would have never met my husband or had our children. I guess everything does happen for a reason. Nice story.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. patriciaruthsusan says:

    A good little bit of memoir, Larry. Something similar happened to me when after Grade 3 in Catholic school my dad moved us from the house and neighborhood where I was born out to a rural, wooded area where there were no neighborhood children and a school where I was called a nasty name for being a Catholic. It happens to many. —- Suzanne

    Liked by 1 person

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