When I Think of Home...

Due to my incomparable upbringing, I have always had an active imagination. I grew up in the same house for nineteen years, I had freedom to roam our expansive three and a quarter acre lot with trees, grass, our cats and friends. Many nights were spent gazing up at the stars on the trampoline. Running, climbing, and eating filled my days. My paternal grandfather, who I call Papa, planted fruit trees in the backyard. For seven years at least, my cousins and I enjoyed picking the ripe plums, apricots, and pears. Our saliva, sufficient enough to clean them allowed us to move onto our next adventure.

Even when I was a little girl, I dreamed of bringing my children to the home I grew up in to play on the swing set in the backyard, to show them that with enough sweat they could climb the walls with their feet, slide down the stairs on an old mattress or fall asleep on the living room couch as the din of family chatter in the kitchen wafted through the house.

My dream came to an end in 2006. I had no children yet and my parents were being forced out to rebuild a dying company that my father had put his life into. No longer can I bring my children to that home to see their Gigi and Papa and play with cousins uninterrupted in the basement, play a round of 9-hole golf around the house or come over for Sunday dinners.

I hate it when people say, "Let it go" or "It was a long time ago", that doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't make feel any better to believe that my parents are giving another family the opportunity to make memories in that house too. As childish as this sounds, it was my house first!

The song, "Our House" by Madness, perfectly illustrates the kind of home I had. Needless to say it has become our anthem for my family. We even used it on a video montage for a family reunion.

Father wears his Sunday best

Mother's tired she needs a rest

The kids are playing up downstairs

Sister's sighing in her sleep

Brother's got a date to keep

He can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle or our...

Our house it has a crowd

There's always something happening

And it's usually quite loud

Our mum she's so house-proud

Nothing ever slows her down

And a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle or our...

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle or our...

Something tells you that you've got to get away from it

Father gets up late for work

Mother has to iron his shirt

Then she sends the kids to school

Sees them off with a small kiss

She's the one they're going to miss

In lots of ways

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle or our...

I remember way back then when everything was true and when

We would have a very good time such a fine time

Such a happy time

And I remember how we'd play simply wasted the day away

Then we'd say nothing would come between us two dreamers

Father wears his Sunday best

Mother's tired she needs a rest

The kids are playing up downstairs

Sister's sighing in her sleep

Brother's got a date to keep

He can't hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle or our street

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle or our...

Our house, was our castle and our keep

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, that was where we used to sleep

Our house, in the middle of our street

Our house, in the middle of our street

I loved my house, still do to this day. I've even thought of knocking on the door just to ask if I could look around. I wonder what stories my house would tell me since my family's been gone? Don't you wish if you just pressed your ear up against the walls hard enough you could hear everything the house has been through?