This Old House

My brother Bryan and his family live in the house where we grew up. So yesterday we went to his house to get together. It's weird, yet comforting to be in that little bungalow on Sunnyside. I spent nearly 20 years of my life there. It's weird, because it's the house I know, yet it's a lot different and I don't live there. Sometimes it feels like I'm in a dream and I'm just floating above it, looking down. Very surreal, to put a label on it.

Although Bryan and Pat have made a lot of changes in the house, the many intricacies of the house remain. It's pretty amazing how these things just come back to you when you're in a place that's so familiar. It's funny how I just know that you have to step down to get from one part of the basement to another, or how I know where the light switch is for the back porch, or that certain doors require a little oomph to get open.

I did notice something yesterday that I never paid attention to. We went for a walk at one point to look at a house that's for sale in the neighborhood. Mickey, Rick, and I talked about houses we've been in and what the neighbors who lived in those houses were like. We shared stories of the insides of houses, and the houses we wanted to see. I listened and talked, yet I kept noticing that something was different in the neighborhood. I couldn't quite put a finger on it. It finally dawned on me. The neighborhood was different. Not only had I grown, but the neighborhood had grown. The trees are much more mature now, trees that were pretty young when we were running around playing. The grown trees, combined with me being grown up, made the neighborhood seem really small yesterday. I had such a different perspective of the place. The place that once was so familiar, now seemed unfamiliar.

When we got back to Bryan's, I shared this thought with my Mom. She felt the same way. "The streets seem so narrow, don't they?" she asked. I agreed. We talked about the mature trees, the narrow streets, and that everything looked different. Again, the surreal feeling came back. It's like the past and the present are combining, but the lines are blurred. It's really hard to distinguish one from the other.

For dinner, Bryan made my Mom's sloppy joes. It was such a nostalgic meal to be eating in that house. After dinner, we sat around the dinner table to have chocolate eclair cake dessert, yet another nostalgic food. Memories flood my brain when I'm in that house. I looked around and remembered holidays celebrated there. Hanging around the adults while they lingered over coffee and dessert after the meal, listening to the stories they told. Sitting at the kids table and laughing with my cousins. Or the bridge parties my parents had at the house. We were forbidden to eat any of the "party food" before the party started, and hoped the guests wouldn't have seconds of the dessert so we could have the leftovers.

That Old House has so much in it. So many memories. So many feelings. So many celebrations. So many experiences. So much learned. So much love. So much family.