A house may just have walls and rooms and appliances but a home has laughter, fun times, sad times, angry times, and lots and lots of memories.
I loved the house I grew up in. It was my childhood home and the only home I’ve ever lived in until I moved out. It was a busy house. A welcoming house. It was a home. It was never dirty but never spotless. There was nothing fancy about it, but it was cozy, warm, and just the kind of house you’d want to grow up in. It was the house all our friends hung out at and having a pool was also a bonus.
It was the house we celebrated every Thanksgiving and Xmas Eve with the whole family. It was where we had almost every Sunday dinner. It was where we celebrated all our birthdays, and kids gathered on Halloween for pictures, and later for Homecomings and Proms.
It was a home my grandma found comfort in for a few months while going through chemo. It was a home my uncle found support in while going through a tough time. It became a home for a couple years to one of my brother’s friends after losing both his parents and having no family left.
Years later, it was only my parents living here. It was time for them to sell. They wanted to do other things. Travel, have a summer home, and not have to worry about maintenance anymore. How could I be sad?
I was now engaged and this wasn’t going to be the house I would get ready at on my wedding day? My kids would never swim here? Gather here on a Sunday for dinner? Take a picture on the front lawn for Halloween? How could I not be sad? Of course, I was sad. But could I stop them from selling it? Of course not. My brother and I had homes of our own. How could I ask them to stay? I couldn’t.
I couldn’t be happier from them now. They are in their early 60’s and living like I did in my 20’s. They plan weekend trips to Vegas, live at their lake house in the summer, work when they feel like it, spend as much time as they want with their friends, their kids, and their grandkids. I am so happy they made the decision they did.
Is it hard to know another family lives there? Sometimes. Especially when you drive past it once a year and see the changes the new family has made. But our memories haven’t stopped. We’re just making them in different homes now. In my home, my brother’s home, my parents’ summer place, and everywhere else we go.
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I sometimes dream of buying my childhood home one day and raising my own kids there… And yet I realize that my family will create our own memories. It was very hard for me too when my parents sold our house, in a way it feels like I didn’t have a “home” anymore… And still drive by longingly and with sorrow. And yet, I think home is more about the people and the memories, and we can create that anywhere.
Your piece evoked a log of thoughts and emotions, I loved the topic choice!
Thank you. I had that one drafted for awhile. It is such a special topic and I was trying to find all the right things to say about it. So thank you!
I just logged into the slice matrix and yours popped up immediately like a present this morning… I love this slice. I was going to say 90th Street, you sure it’s not 190th street? But that’s a whole other story from our late night travels. This slice here is so wonderfully told. It says all the things that we all feel about our loving childhood homes. It shares all the little snapshots of your life’s story with your family. It’s lists out the priority list of wanting parents to pledge allegiance to our needs first even though we know it’s selfish.
My favorite for selfish reasons and because it’s just an awesome description: “They are in their early 60′s and living like I did in my 20′s. They plan weekend trips to Vegas, live at their lake house in the summer, work when they feel like it, spend as much time as want with their friends, their kids, and their grandkids. I am so happy they made the decision they did.” I want to be them when I grow up.
Oh B, a present? You’re too funny. And I love how you included 190th street. Still thinking of a way to make that into a slice. Maybe for the 31st. Like a grand finale. But thank you for your comments.
What struck me in reading your slice was how special your parents were. They were where the love came from, welcoming those in need. Much more than the house itself.
Thank you. They most definitely created a home and certainly not just to their kids.
You are right Shanna, those memories will last forever! The ones made at the new homes will be just as memorable for your kids. Sounds like your parents are experiencing life. How awesome! I want to be like them…especially working when they feel like it. 🙂 Good slice!
I have very fond memories of my first home, too, although I only lived there until I was 7. We would go back to see it from time to time. Once, the folks who bought it even gave us a tour to show the changes they’d made. I’ve owned two homes as an adult. I’ve been in this one for 7 years, bit still consider it the new house. I drive past the old one occasionally and think about moving back into it.
shanna, did you cry when you wrote this? I just cried reading it, and I didn’t even live there! I know it’s so weird to think of another family in that house, isn’t it? That’s how I feel about this house – like it will always be ours.
What came through for me in this piece was YOU. That even though you were so sad, you thought about your parents and their wishes. That’s just you – always thinking of others.
This was really great – this will be a mentor text for a lot of things I think! For descriptive language and asking rhetorical questions and writing about a place…. so good, Shanna!
Beautifully written. It is hard to think that other people live there. I do the same thing and drive by my old house and just wonder who lives there.
Such an amazing home to grow up- what every child should experience growing up! As I was reading, I wanted to go there, then felt sad when I realized they sold it. That is such a hard part of growing up. My parents have not sold their house yet, but I sometimes think about the day they will- it is so sad. Great writing- you brought your readers into the emotions that you feel about the house.
I also have a draft running through my head and notebook about my childhood home. An important piece to your slice is that you’ve been drafting yours for a while now. Please, please share that part with your students when you share this piece with them. Your parents are people I would love to meet. You learned so much from them as they took those in who needed them during your growing up years. Gifts I’m sure you will give your little Ava. Lucky!!