The Endless summer of 1977.

I was kissed by Andy Gibb when I was 14. It was the summer of 1977, before the U.S. Hostages were taken by students in Iran and a time when the country was still healing from the Watergate scandal. The "conflict" in Vietnam was becoming a memory and the hippie era was slowly fading away. America was in the midst of a gas shortage, but as a nation we were still naive and felt shielded from the rest of the world. For me it was my last summer of innocence, the summer before the war between a mother and her daughter was declared and the last real time I spent with her as a child. As I now look back on that season it is through the eyes of myself as a mother since my oldest daughter is 14 herself.

The summer began with a triumph; my mother had just purchased her first real home. It was located at the edge of Detroit and Dearborn; my mother and I had always lived in Detroit since she went to work for the city, as they required residency for employment there. Women's liberation had eased the requirements of home ownership for single women and I would soon have my very own backyard. We were done with apartment living and for that I was eternally grateful. Finally get a dog, something I had always desired, and we were just a short walk from the school I would attend. My mother was going to actually let me walk to and from school by myself and I could arrive home before she returned from work. I was liberated from the shackles of a babysitter, although I had stopped using that title for my caregiver a year or so before. Life was just beginning for me and I was basking in the glow of unadulterated happiness.

Our move was delayed slightly as we were required to give the sellers two months to leave. Although they insisted they would not need the whole time, it ended up taking every single minute of it. Unfortunately we had already given notice to our landlord and had to move a good month before we finally took possession of our home. With no close relatives who could house us temporarily, we were forced to stay in hotels while we waited. This actually brought my mother and I closer together, although it depleted any savings she had. We ending up sneaking in a hot plate and ate some of the most unique meals, meals that were one pan dishes and required little clean up. On Fridays, we were able to eat out, going to Ponderosa or Sweden House for their smorgasbord. We were also lucky enough to have cable TV, something which

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