Today we went to a neighbor's party and met a couple that lives on the next street over from us. In the course of conversation we realized that their first home after they got married was MY HOUSE I LIVED IN UNTIL I WAS 5!
We lived in the same house.
My house.....
It was funny because as I was talking to them I realized that they both actually thought I had lived in THEIR house and as they relayed stuff to me they seemed to think they were talking about THEIR house. They seemed kind of possessive of it....(this is my ironic self speaking.) I told them I had pictures of myself on the front steps. They told me about a mailbox they got in Lancaster. When they lived there they still had the fence my parents put up and my old swing set (that's how I know it was actually MY house) and knew my old neighbor.
My memories are so vivid of that space and my little girl self and how safe it all felt when it was my mommy, daddy, baby brother & me. It was always the 4 of us, don't get my wrong, I didn't suffer any great tragedy after 5. But up until school it was just our little family with very little intrusion from the outside world. Kind of like my own little family unit today. Something I now know as an adult is precious and fleeting. Something I am currently trying to hold on to-hard!
I don't live in the town I grew up in but I do live in the town I was born in. In fact, I can, and have, driven by that little white ranch a number of times in the time that I have lived here.
But today, it was special to speak with someone who shared that same place. See their little girl who shared MY little girl room and talk about my swing set.
At MY house....
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