This is a picture of the house I grew up in. My Mom moved last spring to a smaller ranch style house. This week she closed on the sale of my childhood home. I have such fond memories growing up in this home. I was 6 years old when we moved to this home. My sister (Ann) and I thought we had moved to a mansion. It wasn't a mansion, but compared to our small home that we had moved from, we were "moving on up".
The home was filled with lots of family and friends. My dad had the office of his company in the house, so there were always employees and customers coming in and out.
The home had a laundry shoot and 2 stairways going up to the second floor... this gave us many hours of play. I'm sure my dear friend (Susan) remembers this!?!
I am so glad that Megan will have these memories. Yet, I'm sad for our baby girl in China that she will never know the home her mommy grew up in.
What comes to my mind most when I think of this house, the place I called home.... is LOVE.
Colette
3 comments:
I do remember having so much fun with the laundry chute. I will miss that house, too. I have both great childhood memories and memories as an adult. Who will ever forget the Tide incident???
OH,
You must be heartbroken. I would have a hard time saying good-bye to my childhood home. Have not had to do it yet, but I am dreading the day. We used to always get our heads stuck in the laundry shoot. I would go upstairs and stick my head in and my brother would go into the kitchen, stick his head in and my other brother would stand under it in the basement. Then we'd all talk back and forth or I'd toss something down, etc... hours of fun, but a lot of the time our heads would get stuck and my parents would have to remove the little doors to get us out.
OH,
You must be heartbroken. I would have a hard time saying good-bye to my childhood home. Have not had to do it yet, but I am dreading the day. We used to always get our heads stuck in the laundry shoot. I would go upstairs and stick my head in and my brother would go into the kitchen, stick his head in and my other brother would stand under it in the basement. Then we'd all talk back and forth or I'd toss something down, etc... hours of fun, but a lot of the time our heads would get stuck and my parents would have to remove the little doors to get us out.
Post a Comment