The Sentimental Tourist

(Even as we try to forget our past, we sometimes hold on to fond memories long before they are gone.)

“Do you still remember our old house, Gino?” I asked my son, then eleven years old. We drove down the street and toward the end of the road he pointed to it beaming from ear to ear as if having just won a guessing game and with his still boyish voice excitedly shouted, “That’s our house!” There it was, 2139 Toronto Street, a charming little house we rented from Dr. and Mrs. E.E. Saulmon, looking exactly as it did when we left it five years ago. Of course none of it looked familiar to my five year old daughter, Rianna who was only a year old when we returned home. But to us it unleashed an avalanche of wonderful memories.

The big tree on the left side of the driveway reminds me of bags and bags of leaves raked during autumn. I see myself again disappearing through the familiar latticed porch leading us to the front door as we went home each day. I see the bedroom window from where I peeked out each morning to check if the school bus had arrived.

My husband and I left for the United States in 1985 with our two and a half year old son and settled in Falls Church, Virginia. It was a close fifteen to twenty minute drive to Washington D.C. where he was to take his Masters in Law at the Georgetown University. My daughter was subsequently born there in 1987 and so it was home to us for over three years.

We are on our first visit since we came home and we are tourists now. George Washington Parkway, the scenic route, was our preferred route then into Washington D.C. during weekends as it would take us straight into the city. It was a sight to behold in autumn’s splendor as the trees burst into vibrant hues of red, orange and gold transforming the landscape into a vast mural. However, when we landed jobs all in the Georgetown area we crossed Rosslyn Bridge straight onto the heart of Georgetown, M Street. It is a weekday now but hey, we’re not on our way to work anymore.

We joined hundreds of other people in our hunt for that ever elusive parking spot. We finally found one pretty much in the center of “The Mall”, where all the monuments stand. With cameras slung around our necks, we walked miles from one monument to another, taking snapshots never before taken. The Tulip Library made up for the relatively seeming drabness of the trees along George Washington Parkway as the flowers were at the crest of their loveliness during springtime. My children were lost in a sea of brilliant colored pretty, pretty flowers as I captured what was my favorite city during this season. We managed to catch a few of the remaining cherry blossoms around the Tidal Basin as they clung to their branches for the last few remaining days.

We stopped in silence for a few minutes at the Vietnam War Memorial and continued on with our trek until we were tired and weary. We didn’t realize there was so much more to see so we got our schedule organized for the remaining days. One day was reserved for visits to the Air and Space Museum, the Museum of Natural History and the Holocaust Museum, our choices from the many museums to choose from. We also scheduled a visit back to a more familiar site, Hains Pointe, to once again view “The Awakening”, a colossal sculpture of a man seeming to rise from the dead, his face, an arm, a hand, a foot and a knee jutting out from the ground. We were disappointed though to learn that the White House tour had already been discontinued.

Another day was yet reserved for a trip down memory lane where we showed our daughter places close to our hearts… the Arlington Hospital where she was born; St. James Catholic School were our son studied; St. James Church where we observed Sunday mass; Great Falls Park where we celebrated our children’s birthdays under one hot summer sun melting the cake and bursting balloons; the Bernard P. McDonough Hall at the Georgetown Law Center where my husband spent hours pursuing his Masters degree; the Georgetown University campus where my husband’s graduation ceremonies took place; the DRG Financial Corporation office building on 21st Street where I once worked which was now the Embassy of Venezuela; and the Washington Harbour where we spent some cool spring days. The children had once again a glimpse of their lives five years past in a foreign country, which were to me the best years of my life.

We were to return again in another five years to celebrate my parents-in-law’s golden wedding anniversary as one of my husband’s brothers had settled in Virginia. We no longer were the once eager tourists we were before but we found ourselves going back to 2139 Toronto Street. Sadly, it was no longer there. A new development had risen in the area with more upscale homes dotting the neighborhood. I wondered what happened to our neighbor Mrs. Brown, a very pleasant old lady who welcomed us into the neighborhood with a bottle of champagne and gave my daughter her very first teddy bear when she was born, brown with a red ribbon tied around its neck… the very same teddy bear she hugged and kept her secure all throughout her first long flight home.

2139 Toronto may no longer be there but Falls Church, Virginia and Washington D.C. will forever be in our minds. It’s not about monuments and museums visited by millions of tourists each year. For me it’s all about memories of barbecues spent with friends at the park and our backyard; of sandwiches shared with my husband over lunch at the Washington Harbour on a cool spring day as our offices were just two blocks apart; of apple picking trips to Culpeper where thousands of red apples shone from trees, transforming orchards into a virtual Christmas; of outdoor concerts at Reston Park, one of them by George Benson; of Washington’s Redskins football team Superbowl victory parties on M Street; of a sea of dried leaves waiting to be raked during autumn; of braving the cold winter standing in line one night outside Blues Alley, a bar in Georgetown, to watch Noel Pointer perform; of braving a snowstorm that descended upon us all too suddenly and caught the four of us sharing what was inside my son’s lunchbox, a peanut butter sandwich and a bag of chips, throughout the eight hour ordeal; of snowmen and countless snow balls formed during less severe winter days; of “Dandy”, the Valentine cruise we took with friends down Washington Bay in our finest dresses and tuxedo suits; or of just simply concocting our own fixings at our favorite Fuddruckers hamburger joint.

I can just go on and on reminiscing those wonderful days. The pictures I kept of 2139 Toronto will always remind me of all these precious memories. I hope to return to Virginia again one day and maybe even live there once again but in the meantime, I will just be a sentimental tourist each time I revisit.