I sit on the doorstep at the back of the house, a long lawn in front of me bordered by two high privet hedges and shed at the bottom. Thinking back of my own children as they played, from toddling round to running round, from little tricycles to mountain bikes from expending childhood energy to the fickleness of youth lying there tanning.

Now the cycle is to start again, we are moving away from this home of memories to a house, just for the two of us. It will have a garden but of a size more ‘manageable’ two bedroom, one for us and one (hopefully) for the yet to come grandchildren.

I scan around the lawn and see imaginary areas where one fell off a bike, another where they ‘camped’ and yet another as they played football. It’s not a perfect lawn but a childhood lawn.

The people we have sold to have children, 3 of them, 2 toddlers and one who looks as if at junior school, I hope they have as much fun as mine did.

Bonfire nights, aunts, uncles, grandma’s, grandad’s (mostly gone now) all came with their kids for the fire and fireworks, toffee apples, bonfire toffee and potato pie with pickled cabbage and mushy peas.

Winter of 82, we had a lot of snow that year, a snowman was built and stayed there for over a week.

The house looked good when all the trimmings got up and the tree in pride of place by the front window. The garden birds were not forgotten an upturned bucket with bird seed in front of the patio doors so we could all see them feed.

Spring was always busy, the grass had a miraculous burst of growth, the mower was still full of crud from last year, and the children always wanted to play on the lawn no matter how wet or muddy it got. More arguments as he complained of the grass would not be able to be cut as it had been flattened, I really think he was glad as he never really wanted to do it. The sun started to appear and all the bikes came out, all want punctures repairing, all want cleaning and oiling, a can of beer usually helped to oil someone’s motivation.

Summer holidays, the tent had to be erected and checked out along with the trailer wheels taken off and greased, all put back together for the argument of the year of how am I going to pack all this stuff. I got used to it, it was the same every year and it all got packed, what I think really aggravated him was that it did all get used.

Paddling pools, we seem to have got through a few of them, they were always there until secondary school and then they said it was no longer a good way to keep ‘cool’, but they still kept their massive water pistols!

Here and there were pockets of flowers, they just brightened everything up and made no-go areas for the children, except they still did.

Bar-B-Ques family and friends around, all sat out talking whilst the kids were screaming! It was fun.

Everyone came round to ours, they didn’t like there ‘lawn’ being wrecked, we thought that that is what it was all about.

And now another autumn is due, a time to tidy up and pack away, both memories and ‘things’ in readiness for our move.

I close the door on my little oasis of fun, and walk back into what was a home but is no more, a shell, emptied. Walking around one last time a tear breaks out as more memories come flooding back, a hand rests on my shoulder and I turn around to see another set of eyes, reddened and moist, like me remembering what had gone. We had had tears of laughter as well as pain, but the house was a home as it bound us into one, a family. No-one will be able to erase the memories we both shared and the photographs from over the years will be a constant reminder.

We walk to the front door, keys in hand, take a deep breath and walk through, we shut and lock the door behind and walk to the car. Driving off I look behind and in my mind see the children playing on the street, we turn the corner and that is it.

The new is house is nice, it’s a bungalow, all our furniture is now in place and we are getting settled. The neighbours are nice, no children about so its quiet – sometimes too quiet.

The modern age, we lived within a close proximity to our parents and families, now, well they are young, and have good jobs, so have moved further and further away.

No just dropping in for a cup of tea, I was really looking forward to doing that.

You can’t keep hold of your kids forever, but it would be nice to be nearer.

I wonder what they are doing now?

We have pictures of them all scattered about the house, he complains of all the holes in the wall, I look to see where I will be putting the pictures of the grandchildren.

He’s pottering about, saying he has lots to do, but I don’t know what, the doors and windows are plastic so don’t need painting, the walls are just emulsion, anyway I’ve covered them in photographs and paintings. I sit on a chair in the garden, lots more flowers, the scents are really nice and its nice to see a lot more birds fly down to feed. I read a book, something I’ve always promised myself with a glass of wine, strange it doesn’t feel as good as I imagined. So I soak up the sun for a while, trying not to reminisce. He comes and sits next to me, ‘given the flower beds a good weeding’ that’s nice dear.

We’ll be alright here, time to make new memories to go with the old, especially when they come to visit. I nod, and say I wish they were closer though. We’ll have a trip out then, go and visit them, stay in one of the lodges we’ve seen. I smile and inside panic, does he mean it or is it just one of them ‘jokes’ of his? I’ve got everything settled here in the garden, and we’ve nothing planned for a few days, there is only one thing though that’s stopping us though – here it comes – how am I going to pack all your clobber into our even smaller car! Laughing we hold each other, and go and pack – believe it or not it took 30 minutes! And only one case! I was ready before he could get to the sports page!

I know memories only come in time, and we have both lots to fall back on, but now we need to make new memories of our own, again, and not rely on others to make them for us.

I wonder what the children will think when we knock on the door!