Everyone has a house they grew up in. One where all their memories come from. If they thought back to where they want to be in life, that is where they want to travel back in time to. There is one place that is mine. Even though I never really grew up here its still mine. I never got the luxury of having a childhood home. But this house is the house I spent all my good memories with my dad. I think about my dad and this house is where I think. Its the only thing left that shows the world he once lived... since I never got to bury him. Well he moved to washing right before he died and left all our stuff there. We went to visit his old house and we drove up, and the walls were all torn out, windows broken, floor and
ceiling ripped out... I found my
kinder garden name tag in there. It was
devastating.
Last night I got an email from my sister
Ashley and she found this picture on her ex
best friends little sisters
face book pictures...
My childhood home being spray painted on. I used to call this place home and they are destroying it. All the comments on face book were people saying that it was their home and kidding around about the old place... but they are so lying. This was my safe place. My memories and they are ripping it apart like its nothing...
UGH!
6 comments:
I've moved around the country a million times, so I have a lot of different places I could call home. But, the first one was the best. Naturally, of course. We've been back a few times, but never inside the house.
But it's not as bad as your situation. I really hope you feel better soon. Maybe, if you get the chance in the (not so near) future, you could attempt to restore it?
(By the way, I only remembered just now that private blogs don't produce a feed, so I missed some of your previous posts. I'll try to keep up manually!)
im switching off of private for a while cause i am sick of only writing to myself eventually not until i have some more followers. but thanks
and it will be torn down in a year or so because its a health hazard.
I've also done a lot of moving over the years, and to tell you the truth, I don't remember most of my past homes that well :)
I think memories stay with you though. I mean, its always nice if you could go back to the house, but changes are always happening. If you went back and found the house renovated and another family living in it, it'll probably feel weird too. But in your memories, the house would always be the same :D
there would always be the memories, but its the way it went down that was bothering me. Its the fact that my dad is dead and he doesnt have a memorial stone in the ground. That was my place to cry, and now its ruined. It's completely different then just moving and seeing it change. Its that there is nothing of my dad left...
I see what you mean...vandalism hurts!
I wish they didn't vandalize it. Its not nice at all.
Your Dad is in your memories and your heart. Thats the warmest place to be :)
And I guess I'm not one to say this, since I've never had to live through your hardships before, but cheer up! I'm sure your dad would be happy too if he sees you smiling from heaven :D
if there is one. I sure hope that is what makes him happy.
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