When I was younger I essentially grew up at my grandparents house. It was a smaller two story with a long driveway to the left hand side with a yard in the back that had a huge tree and a non-connecting garage. That place has to many memories to count, but now when I think of that house it seems so unfamiliar. After my family moved to Plainfield, IL my grandparents sold that house to be closer to us. After the house was sold it was as if the memories were sold with it. The new owners changed the outside look of the house and also added a fence. I’m not sure I could even bare to look at the inside even if I was presented with the opportunity because I know they probably changed the whole thing.
When I was younger my parents still worked full time so my grandparents (mostly my grandma) watched over my brother, sister, and I. That house is where I first learned to ride a two wheeler bike, planted flowers and vegetables in the garden out back, and even saw my grandpa throw a garden snake over the fence to get it out of the yard. All memories that made up most of my childhood. I think it is hard for me to still think about that house because my grandma has since passed and all of the memories that that house brings she is apart of. She was my second mother for a long time and will always be one of my biggest inspirations.
I have visited the house years ago with my family once and we just slowly drove past, but in that slow drive I could hardly recognize the house. It was like looking at a whole other place and my grandparents house was all, but a distant memory. Now I don’t think I will ever visit that house again. I wish to preserve the memories I have with the house I knew and not the “new” house that I don’t even recognize.
Its funny how a place can remind you of so many things that you thought you forgot. Thinking about it as I write this post I can remember so many little details about how the house was set up.I can even remeber all the places we used to play with my grandparents typewriter and watched Arthur and Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang in the TV room. I can almost remember the smell of my grandma’s sheets from her bed and how going there gave me the most at home and secure feeling that I think I had ever felt as a child. It brings tears to my eyes that I will never see that house the way it was again, but it will always be apart of who I am no matter where I go in life.
Although that house is “gone” I am still finding who I am everyday. The places I have been also shape who I am today. I continue to live my life, but I will never forget where I came from or where I want to go from here.
Comment below what places you think shaped you as a person and if you liked this post don’t forget to subscribe!
p.s. i love you grandma, you are my inspiration and my guardian angel wrapped into one.
This post was inspired by The Daily Post ‘Finding Your Place’ writing challenge.