Day 52: Photographic Evidence, as if it were needed.

 

. My brother uncovered an actual photograph — proof, if any were needed, that I wasn’t imagining the idyllic days we spent in Ringsend, laughing and living without a care in the world.

The photo shows my brother, mid-chase, legs a blur, trying to reclaim his beloved trike from none other than Lizzie. There she is, cheeky and determined, pedaling furiously down the street as if she owned it. In that moment, she probably did. She was a character!

Looking at it now, I’m struck by how much joy radiates from something so simple. A stolen trike. A brother’s indignation. A chase that probably ended in laughter rather than tears. These were the small dramas that made up the fabric of our childhood — moments of pure, unfiltered life.

Ringsend wasn’t just a place. It was a feeling. It was freedom on two wheels (or three), it was scraped knees and unstoppable giggles.It was Lizzie, speeding away, daring anyone to catch her.

Sometimes we wonder if we’ve romanticised the past. If those days were really as golden as we remember. But then a photograph like this surfaces, and suddenly it’s all real again. The sunshine, the laughter, the family.

So here’s to Lizzie, to my brother, to that trike, and to all the laughter-filled moments we carry with us from Ringsend. Proof, at last, that we weren’t just dreaming.