Calling Me Home…

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My Childhood Home
There has been something that has been calling me to this house for the last two months. Dreams, stories in books, and old pictures I found. The urge to just jump in the car and drive there was overwhelming.
It has been waiting for me for a long time, and the time had come to say hello again.
I hesitated for a second before I walked up to it. Because now, it’s owned by someone else, and well, maybe that would be weird. But before I knew it my feet were in the grass, one foot in front of the other to sit under my favorite little tree. This is mine. This grass. This front lawn. This tree. These are all mine. And whoever lives there now will just have to accept it.
It all belongs to me forever.
“Home” is such a powerful word. When I think of what it means to me, I think of the boardwalk in Seaside Heights, the smell of the ocean, the creaking of the boardwalk, the rides on the pier, skeeball and the signs all lit up at night. I have a bunch of pictures to share with you tomorrow.
This house is all connected to that for me. It was such a beautiful time in my life. It was a time when everything felt right, and I felt safe and happy. Both my sets of Grandparents lived minutes away. There were tons of kids in my neighborhood and everybody got along. We organized “Junior Olympics” and sold lemonade and roller skated. I loved biking everywhere, going to the woods that we made dirt hills to jump our bikes off of. We built a three tier tree fort in one of the woods nearby and collected pinecones to throw at each other for fights. We played under the shade of the tree in my front yard, making pot holders on those little plastic red square looms and we wrote poetry and songs and sketched out routines. I played with my first dog, Sneaky in this yard (the dog that taught me how to walk by holding onto her collar.)
I used to sing in the chorus, played flute in the band and was a halfback in soccer. It was elementary school so it was before any stupid cliques were happening. I remember everyone being friends and having lots of fun just being a kid. I try to emulate a lot of that as the grown up me, just doing the creative fun stuff I love, making new friends and most importantly, always looking to adventure!
It really touched me seeing that house again for the first time since I was 12. There is such a happy innocence that lives in me still from that time. Shortly after, we moved to a new place where I felt like I didn’t fit in, and a series of tragedies happened, that all provided valuable lessons, but changed my life. You know, those things that make you stronger, but are really devastating at the time.
For all of its simple happy times, I hold this place close to my heart. Returning there made me feel as if no time had passed. I wanted to ride my bike all over and explore. I wanted to run all over the place with nowhere in particular to go.
It brought back memories of my family and it made me smile. It made me think of all the happy times and brought me close to all of them again, those that are living and those that have passed on. Visiting there made me realize that world has been living in my heart since the day I left, and will be forever. My wonderful family, the house, the woods across the street, and the seashore are the foundation of who I am and where I come from. And how proud and lucky I feel to have them in my life.
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Under the Shady Tree Where I Used To Play