I sat and thought about the house that built me....I lived here from the time I was one until 17.
It was HOME. The best story is one that we laugh at quite often. When we moved here, the road wasn't busy, not even marked with lines but one day my Mom was cleaning and looked out the window to see a car (or two) stopped. When she looked closer, I was in the road, ha! I was just little and of course my Mom would never have intentionally left me unsupervised....let's just say I was a wanderer! Anyway, can you imagine that happening today?! I survived and all is good.
But, when I was a Sr. in high school we moved here -
just back the lane from my first house. It was never 'home' to me. So, after I graduated, I moved out. Into an apartment with a friend and never went back. Of course I have had my struggles and challenges but luckily never had to inconvenience my parents by moving back in.
I tell the kids often that I used to walk to school. I think they do believe me but here's my school. Ironically, my parents bought it and turned it into apartments.
This is the little store I used to ride my bike to every day. Penny candy at it's best!
So as I sit here and think about all the people close to me that are dealing with medical issues and tough times, I'm thankful for the house that built me. I learned a lot about life under that roof. Tough times, definite challenges, many babysitters while Mom and Dad worked two jobs but that will always be my "home place". I don't even know who lives there now but I wonder what they would think if I knocked on the door and asked if I could come in. Wouldn't take anything but memories......
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