This is the home I grew up in. I never thought I would be sad about saying goodbye to it, but today I am. This weekend I stop by one last time while my dad still lives there to pick up some last things. At first I was irritated that he wouldn’t just bring the items to me at a wedding we were both attending, but I’m glad I got to say a final goodbye. I haven’t lived here for 7 years, and even though a few years in the middle of a heated argument my father yelled “THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME!”, I still think of it as such, just a little. I lived there from the age of 6 to 21. I grew up there. I don’t think my dad understands what it’s like to never be able to step foot inside the house you grew up in. His parents still live in there’s and probably will until they die.
I’ve spent so many holiday, birthdays, celebrations here. I’ve seen the tree out front grow. I buried 2 hamsters in the backyard. When I was feeling down I would just sit and stare out on the roof. The bathroom window was the perfect place to wait for your ride/date to pick you up because you can see cars as they turn on to the street. I learned how to do a cartwheel in the backyard. My dad taught me about photography and how to use his SLR here.
My house is where we met for Prom. Where we hid from Mom’s bunko friends and ate 7-11 meal deals while watching TGIF on the tiny black and white antena TV. This is where I jumped on the trampoline when I saw snow fall for the first time. Where my sister and I fought and fought and then finally learned to love each other.
This is where I gathered my friends and had many parties. This is where I was able to step outside myself for just a moment as I looked at my friends all together on one couch and I knew that this moment would never happen again. Where I finally figured out that life is short and beautiful moments are fleeting.
This is where I found out my mom had cancer and where I watched her fade into almost nothing for 4 years. Where I prayed to God to take away her pain, even if it meant to take her away too. Where I realized she had died before I was told.
This is where my mother died.
I had my first kiss there.
This is where I lived.
This is where I became me.