I used to live in the city that produced this gorgeous beach.

I remember when we first moved in. We had to stay in a hotel on the coast while they finished building our house and getting it ready. But once we moved in, it was great. My parents opted out of the cathedral ceilings in the house, but we still had pretty high ceilings. My room was huge and included a walk in closet. I had a bay window plus a shell window on top of that that faced out onto the neighborhood street. My first best friend Will lived across the street. I can't remember what his parents did for a living, but we used to have sleepovers and hang out all the time. A year after we moved in, his family had to move away. But that was okay, because then I befriended Charlie, who was 3-4 years younger than me. And we became best friends.

We used to play games and I would always be a sore loser and boss him around because I could. We were always running around outside, playing on my swingset or playing hide and seek at his house. His parents never allowed us inside their house while they were at work. A couple of times I even met one of his friends Ben, who stayed with his grandparents while his parents were getting divorced. There was a girl who lived in the cul-da-sac just a few houses down from mine whose parents were neatfreaks. I hated going over there.

I forgot to mention my only girl best friend. Her name was Helen and she lived in one of the most beautiful houses kitty corner from Charlie's house. She was 2-3 years old than me. But we had so much fun. The next to her lived a boy her age, I can't remember his name, but we used to watch movies together. I think he tried to kiss me once too. Helen was the first person to help me write a love letter to her neighbor who was friends with her older brother (they were probably 14, I was maybe 7-8, Helen was about 10 maybe). They were sleeping and she wrote the letter for me and we placed it on his chest and ran out giggling.

And across the street from both Helen and Charlie was one of the cutest yet jerkiest boys I had ever known. They kept to themselves, but they were mean. They always used to throw water balloons at Erika and I.

Every 4th of July we had a huge neighborhood parade. We'd all dress up and decorate our houses and bikes. Then there would be a bike race and assortment of other fun things to do.

My school had a Spring Fling every year. It was a huge fair that was held on our soccer field across the parking lot of the church. There was everything there. I remember Chris and I dared each other to eat so many slices of pizza and have pop and go on one of the rides. He puked and I didn't. I was very little when I was allowed to ride the Ring of Fire. A girl older than me went in the same cage as me and she cried.

When I was in the 4th grade I got a puppy that I named Snowball. My dad wanted to name her Lady, but she was MY dog. She was an American Eskimo Spitz, just like our dog Poochie in California. The only thing is that she was a wild crazy dog. I think I was the only one who ever tried to train her and that obviously didn't work. She had a gorgeous white coat and was full of energy. She dug up our entire backyard so she could have a place to cool off in the middle of those Floridian summers. She especially liked to run up and slide down my slide while she was chained up. We had to be careful she didn't choke herself.

There are so many more memories about Florida that I would divulge in. But I've reconnected with a couple of girls I used to know in FL. And it has made me nostalgic for that time. I so desperately want to go back and visit, it won't cost much, but it will take a lot of planning. And it probably won't happen 'til Jax is a bit older. But if there's one thing I want to do before I die, it's to go back and see everything again.

To look at my old house and say "I lived here. I remember when Charlie was dared to kiss me in my closet and then my mom walked in." Or to go to my elementary school and say "Ryan kissed me here...this is where I had my First Communion....this is where we had tennis practice...When I was in the 2nd grade, I laid in the cot in the office right by the principal's office.." A lot has faded in my memory, but I can pretty much remember the route we took to go from our house to church, or the route my bus took on the way home. To see Eglin and Hurlburt AFB. Maybe even get a temporary pass to the military base in Pensacola and visit my sister's grave.

I want to show Andy that this is where I used to live, to share this with him and with my son. To let the floodgates open and remember every single possible thing I can about this place I used to call home. Share this thing inside of me that is so difficult to put into words. To relive these memories, if only briefly. Close my eyes and remember that Ben and I used to sit on my front lawn late into the night just talking. That's where I first learned how homosexual people had sex. Or making Charlie carry my golf bag that my grandpa sent all the way from ND. My last night in Florida and trying to sneak out to hook up Ben with Erika. Going to the beach on Sunday's with my parents and eating at the fancy restaurant on the base.