On The Street Where You Live

My brother told me a few Sunday's ago, while we were all together for dinner, that the beloved house that we grew up in was for sale. 

Really, I thought. I had always fantasized about buying it back. 

He then showed us the listing on line. It was with much joy that we (thanks to technology) looked through the photos online of our childhood home. I could hardly believe my eyes..not much had changed since the 37 years ago that we moved out. I noticed the kitchen floor was the same tile floor my mom had installed in the 70's. The bathrooms looked to be the same bathroom we used as kids and the finished basement, where we had a bumper pool table and the neighborhood's first video games hadn't changed at all. Such happy memories growing up in that beloved house. 

For two weeks I couldn't get my house out of my head. Not to far from where I live now, I had often driven by the home and pointed it out to my children and my husband. Each time I watched and wondered why it had fallen into disrepair. I often said I would have given anything to get back inside and see it. Now was my chance and I knew that I probably wouldn't have this opportunity again. I watched the listing waiting for an open house opportunity and yesterday I had my chance!

I took my mom and we toured the house I grew up in. She was delighted to see the deep red, kitchen tile she installed still in pretty good shape. I was so taken by the closet doors, still slatted and with the same door handles that I grew up with. What wasn't so great about that was that the closets inside were still the same wooden dowels that we had hung our clothes many years before. They looked old because they were. Even the kitchen pantry, where I used to scour for goodies and treats, was the same four shelved wooden closet. It had stood the test of time, but because of that it was obviously time for change. 

The bathroom by the back door was the same! I swear my mom installed that Dixie cup dispenser when we were kids...and there it was. We wondered if going back into the house after all those years would be emotional, but it wasn't for either of us. It was great, really! And it felt so good to be able to remember good memories we shared inside the house. Truth is, it felt just like home-even with someone else's belongings everywhere. Even the realtor walked around with us as we toured the house, listening to us comment on everything. She later told us that we had made her day as it was obvious to her how much we loved living in that house.

I took a selfie in almost every room of the house and there I am inside my old room. I stood at the point where I used to sit and play records and dolls and I swear I could have stayed there all day-just happy to be inside. I took pictures for my brothers and sisters too, and I sent this picture to my brother of me outside the closet he used to lock me in-then take off and leave me there-when we played hide and go seek. Again-they were the same wooden shelves I had squeezed into when I was a kid. 

We left no stone unturned and we even toured the garage. 

My eyes spied this on the garage window.

That was my dad's security company that he owned when we lived there!! Mom was tickled to see it was still there. 

Standing there on the driveway where I learned to ride a two wheeler and skinned many a knee, it was obvious that even though we didn't live there any longer, we were still very much a part of that beautiful home and its legacy. If the old saying is true, that life takes you to unexpected places but love brings you home, then I have come full circle and truly come home. 

Will we buy it back? Who knows? We talked about it and we agreed that it seemed like after we left,  the people that lived in it stopped taking care of it, never truly loving it the way we did. We are intrigued to say the least, but we all agree-it needs a lot of love and some serious TLC.