Looking Back, Again

Summer in Buckeye, circa 1962....The swimming pool in the city park.  It's Sunday.  My dad put a pot of sauce on the stove and my mom took us four kids swimming.  Heaven. I had one swimming suit.  I can still see it.  A little cotton one-piece with a ruffle.  When mom said we could go to the pool, it was like I died and went to heaven.  We rushed around getting our suits on and were ready to go in about 25 seconds.  Mom didn't believe in bringing towels so didn't have to bother with that.  My sister Molly and I usually had one pair of thongs (those were flip flops back then, not panties!) to share between us, so divide that and you get either the right or the left thong, the other foot is bare.  We would always walk the block to the pool, and our foot (feet!) would practically sizzle off getting there and coming home.  But once we were there, life was sweet.  The water was always perfect and I would try and dive to my mom, then try and hang on her.  She really didn't like that and after a minute or two she pushed me to the side and enjoyed herself too.  I loved watching the other kids swimming, I loved the smell of the pool and I was entranced with the lifeguards.  One thing I never understood was why some of the ladies wouldn't get their hair wet.  What was up with that?  Now, of course I know why...it was so they didn't look like drowned rats in case somebody cute was around to see them!  I always had an eye on the refreshment stand, not that we were allowed to ever get anything.  That's probably why I had an eye on it!  My big brother Pookie always went on the diving board and that made me proud.  He was pretty sure of himself, or so it seemed.  Molly never seemed like she mixed well with the water, kind of stiff and uncomfortable.  Sorry Molly, but that's how I remember it.  Dominic, well, if you know what an 'eenew, weinew' is, that was him.  Just an ennew weinew, kind of cute in a little boy way though.  We'd swim until we were prune-like then mom would tell us to get out.  I always resisted, jumping in and out at least 10 more times before she got p'od.  The icing on the day would be dinner.  We hopped, ran, skipped our way back home, got dressed and ready to eat in the speed of light.  I could smell my dad's sauce from outside our home and the anticipation of having spaghetti would practically drive me nuts!  And after swimming, for some reason, hunger is extreme!  So we sat down and had my father's incredible pasta. Perfection.  The thing of it is, I KNEW how lucky I was to have a day like that.  I knew those days were special, and they must have been because I can still remember them.  The smells, the swimsuit, my parents, my brother's and sis, and Buckeye.  I don't care who says what, Buckeye Arizona was a wonderful place to grow up in the 50's and 60's.  I was one lucky little girl.