Monday, October 1, 2012

The house that built me....

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I grew up in living in the same home until probably around the time I turned 22. I have so many memories there. My dad sold it about 8 years ago, and although I have found myself driving by, wondering what kind of memories the family inside was making, I never REALLY thought that I would get the chance again to go inside. Well a couple of months ago, my mom found out that {unfortunately} the house was foreclosed on. It went on the market last week. I love how my mom called the Realtor and told her that my husband and I were looking to buy a house. She didn't tell her that was OUR house until we showed up for her to show us the house. I couldn't wait to walk through!
It didn't feel as strange as I thought it would. Possibly because it was empty. It was hard to imagine that a family that I didn't know called this "home". There were a few things different as I walked around, but for the most part, everything looked exactly the same. The carpet in the living room was different, and normally that wouldn't bring back a memory. BUT...I remember my dad had put new white berber carpet in, and my twin brother and I decided to have a party when he was out of town. We asked that everyone take off there shoes and of course no smoking in the house. As the party grew, the smokers went outside, without their shoes on, so everything stuck to their socks as they came back in. The next morning, when we walked into the living room, I realized that every bit of mulch that once lived outside in the front, now resided over every inch of that white carpet. It was a disaster! That made me laugh looking at the carpet this time. 

Then as we walked up the stairs into the hallway, the railing looked especially low to me.

 I remembered how my dads dry cleaning pile (HUGE PILE) was always thrown over the railing, and I also remember how a mean babysitter we ONCE had, held us over that railing in hopes that it would settle us crazy kids down. I opened the linen closet door in the hallway and remembered that was where my brother and I would climb to the top to hide from our parents (which I think I might not think was so funny now if my kids did that!).

 I could pictures so many things that, even though I was an adult when I moved out, that I couldn't picture until this visit. I also think that was because it was empty. I remembered sitting at my window sill as a child, and later as a teenager, climbing out that same window to sneak out. I used to also climb out the window and lay out on the roof.


 You know you get a pretty good tan laying out on a black roof! Now the sunspots on my forehead, and the wrinkles I have here and there, laugh at me in agreeance. 



There was now an entire forest of bamboo. I told my mom that I could now have that panda bear that I always wanted!


I love the memories that have been built in that house, and I will always be thankful for them. I don't think that I would ever want to live there again, but I hope that another family with little babies will be able to look back 34 years later at the house that built them.Have you ever walked through the house that you grew up in?? I'd love to hear about it!

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