In life, there are some roads that you never want to take again, and there are some that you always want to take. It's all about the memories that each one holds, I guess.
Last week I found myself driving down a familiar road from my past, one that STILL gets me 8 1/2 years later. It's the road that leads to where The Boy used to live. For almost a year after we broke up, I still couldn't take that road. I even wrote about it back in the day on my old blog. It's so strange that I still have trouble driving down that road. I see all of the places we used to go and I still get sad twinges. If I had a 40 with me, I would be pouring a little out all the way down the road.
On the flip side, there are other roads that are always a nice place to go back to. I found myself on such a road yesterday when I was out running an errand and decided to take a shortcut through my old neighborhood to avoid some traffic. I lived there from when I was born until I moved out when I was almost 12. I grew up over near our local airport and over the last few years, an upcoming airport expansion has been "taking" land and houses from my old neighborhood, but I didn't realize how crazy it had gotten until I drove through yesterday. There were empty fields of land everywhere, and not even a trace that any houses had ever been there. It was like The Twilight Zone or something. All I know is that I didn't like it one bit. As I headed up my old street, the houses started disappearing the closer I got to my old house. There is only one house still standing in this giant area of fields everywhere, and it's my old house. Everything around it on all sides is gone - it looks like the house from Up, just sitting there all by itself. But I know one day soon that house will be gone as well, and the final piece of my memories from that neighborhood will be gone.
I don't like it.
I liked having a street I could drive down and show things to people while telling stories. I remember taking an old boyfriend up the road and pointing out places like where we used to play kickball (gone now), where I fell off my bike and got the scar that I have on my elbow, and where my old bus stop was. My mother says I cried every day not wanting to go to kindergarten, not because I hated school, but because I had afternoon kindergarten and had to leave before I could see the Showcase Showdown on The Price is Right. That sounds about right knowing me.
Even my old house is unrecognizable now. It's had two owners since us and one of them took out this big line of giant evergreen bushes that we had. That just makes me sad because there was a little open area inside the corner where the bushes met that we used to call "Yoda's Hut." That's where I had my first kiss. Now, it's gone.
When the house finally does go, it will be taking with it many, many things. It's the place where I used to stretch the cord of the telephone from my parent's room into my bedroom next door so I could call my friends from school and giggle about boys. Gone will be the hallway where my brother and I used to play Demolition Derby with our matchbox cars. Gone will be the place where my mother held me as I sobbed after she had to tell me that one of my best friends had died. I still don't know how she did that. The upcoming empty fields will also take away our backyard patio, where we used to play with Star Wars toys with my neighbor. I always got the worst characters, and mine were forced to live in "Bumtown." I had a Chewbacca with green legs. I'll never be able to drive by and show someone the bedroom where I used to sing my heart out in my bed when my parents had friends over to play cards and I didn't want to go to sleep. I would stay in bed and sing Sunday School songs until I was exhausted, or until my mother came in to tell me to stop. Usually it would be the latter. It's just sad to think that the place where we used to set up little haunted houses in my brother's bedroom and make our parents walk through them will be gone. It won't be around for new generations of kids to enjoy and to make their own memories in. And it won't be around for me to drive by and smile as I see myself pedaling away down the driveway on my Big Wheel like it was yesterday.
I'll miss you, little ranch. Thanks for helping to make me into the girl I am today.
I haven't been that way in a while...last time I checked my old house was still there. I've often imagined knocking on the door and asking the current owners to let me come in. I'd probably have to stay at least a week to get my fill of cherished memories. I moved a month before I turned 10, so I was in my new-old house when I heard the heart-breaking news. That girl was one in a million. r.i.p. epl <3
Posted by: jlj | March 27, 2011 at 08:34 AM