Vanished Place

When I was a kid, I lived in New Port Richey, Florida. Our house was painted white with a tacky turquoise trim. I remember catching grasshoppers in my pink tea set and playing outside with the neighborhood kids. I rode my bike up and down the street, but I was never allowed to go past the "big pink tree", an apple tree full of blossoms. We had a huge orange tree in our backyard which made for many juicy snacks. I used to go inside the tree, which was like a big fort. We lived across the street from a river. There were often large turtles walking across the street that the neighborhood kids would lift into wagons and push around the streets. I enjoyed visiting my next door neighbor, Gladice. She was a nice old lady who let me take a trinket from her house every visit. My other next door neighbor, Lauren, was one of my best friends. She was only a year younger than me, and we played together every day.
When I visit Florida every summer I like to go back to my old neighborhood and see what it looks like. It has been quite a disappointment. As I expected, Gladice died many years ago. The big orange tree in our front yard has been cut down, and in place of the tree, between my old house and Gladice's, is another new home. It is faced in the opposite direction of all the other houses on the street. It's backyard is where everybody else's front doors are. It looks terrible. I have to say, whoever bought my old house did a really nice job fixing it up. It is now a pink color, but the yard is lush and grassy. Everyone who used to live there had moved away except Lauren and her family. They came to my wedding in Tampa Florida this summer and I've noticed how far apart we have grown. Her mother is still the nice lady she always has been, but Lauren and I no longer have much in common.