This next story is pretty simple to be honest.
In life we all have memories that really stick with us, maybe for no reason. In a way, I feel maybe I like this memory because its not actually my eyes I was seeing it through. That makes no sense I’m sure, but maybe I can explain better.
In my last post I mentioned how our house was in a relatively new development. Well, I cant say I exactly remember how old I was, maybe around 5. My dad would often drive out to the site of the house being built to see how it was going. I one day I went with him and the progress was basically a big hole In the ground that was soon to become the basement and foundation for the rest of the home.
I remember standing there on one of the mounds of dirt looking down into the hole. I looked at my dad, both hands perched at his waste as he had a small smile on his face. I looked back at the hole and even as young as I was I knew it was a big thing to him. I felt proud for him. His hard work was paying off and he was seeing his new home being built.
I was pretty proud also. “This is going to be my house.” I thought to myself. I don’t remember much else of the building process. Maybe before the walls were up, and it was a lot of wood. My dad took lots of video of it being built that I have.
It pains me to say we didn’t stay at that house, I truly loved it. But that’s a story for another day. Within the last few years that house went up for sale again. I was tempted to drive there to see it if it were to have an open house, just because I wanted to see it potentially one last time.
You can view it here. But I took a couple pictures to show it off if you aren’t that interested.
It looks like the roof may need a little love, but other than that, it’s as I remember it. I can say the bulk of my childhood memories took place there. Also as my last post talked about the hill, you can tell the only way to take a picture of the front of it is from down the hill maybe a quarter of the way.
I’m pretty sure its received a facelift since we lived there, but its as I remember it. That island is where I would do my math flash-cards while waiting for dinner, or play games at the same location as that table. I would ride on my dads foot was he walked through the kitchen in front of the fridge when I was little.
And it all started with that hole in the ground.
2 thoughts on “February [Stories] 03”
Beautiful house! I have similar feelings about my old family home. My parents sold it after they retired and moved to a much “nicer” house with a lot more space, but it’s still weird to think of someone else living in the house where I lost my first tooth, learned to ride a bike and got my college acceptance letter.
Yeah it’s a very strange feeling. Even though the layout of the house was the same, some differences had happened. The basement was never finished when I lived there. Or the deck they installed in the backyard. But I still think of the house fondly.
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