To understand the impact that had on me, you need to know a little background. I, as you might have figured out by now, did not have a stable childhood. My grandparents’ house was the one place that would always be. It was the place I lived on and off as I grew up. It was my safety net. We had all of our family holidays there and everything centered around that house. But what I cherish most is the memories from a typical day. We would have dinners around the table, then on a nice day, relax on the front porch with some sweet tea and watch the world go by. I listened to my grandma sing on that front porch and my grandpa tell his stories of days gone by. This house meant so much to our family; it was one of the last things my grandma asked me about. Although she had moved out years earlier, she still asked if any of us had been by there.
I will miss that house. I miss the family we used to be, in that house. I miss the love, I miss my grandparents.
Losing both my grandparents plus this house is just too much. It is really over, they are really gone. It is never going to be the same.
I will now avoid that area of town like the plaque. I cannot stand to see what the next people will do to it. It most likely was sold to a Landlord and renters just don’t take care of properties like they should. They will never know the history of that house and they will never know the man whose name is in the concrete out front.
Goodbye house on Sycamore Street, I will miss you but I will always remember you, just the way you were!!