Saying Goodbye to my Last Family Home

Thursday, 6 July 2017

mental health awareness, childhood, memories, sentimentality, mhbloggers, lifestyle

I don't know if this is to do with the way my mind works but because I overthink I also 'overfeel'. (Is that a word? Let's just go with it.) I am so sentimental it is untrue. I know it becomes commonplace the older you get to feel that the era you grew up in was the best era and that everything then was amazing from music to TV programmes but I also know I have always been this way.

I get lost in smells and certain furniture or music. My heart swells to the point of bursting when a memory or blast from the past takes me by surprise.

While I am not one to hoard or hold onto a lot of physical things (in fact I hate clutter!) I do hold onto memories and enjoy getting lost in them, probably to an unhealthy point actually. I miss the old days sometimes.

Anyway, recently I said goodbye to a HUGE part of my childhood; my last childhood home. My grandparents sold their bungalow and downsized to make their lives easier after the place they have called home for over thirty years became too much to look after.

It has been a long process and every time I visited I would wonder if it was the last time I would be there before they finally found a suitable place to call their new home. After hanging on they finally found somewhere a couple of months ago and have recently just moved moved in.

Of course I am so happy for them. I know the bungalow was such a struggle to look after and my grandad in particular was finding it hard work to maintain the large garden and rooms were getting to the point of needing decorating again. Even just general housework was tiring. I am also extremely excited for their new chapter and to go and see their new place however I feel a bit sad that a house I have so many happy memories of is gone.

My grandparents were a big part of my childhood and are a big part of my life still today, they helped mum out by having us to stay to give her a break as well as taking us on holidays and days out. I have many happy memories of Christmas's at their house. One particularly springs to mind which is the year my brother and I got roller blades and spent most of the day racing each other up and down their in and out driveway.

I remember Christmas nights spent eating quality street whilst watching Christmas or Disney films (when Quality Street tins were much bigger FYI) and I remember their house and gardens being THE best place for playing hide and seek ever. I only recently found out that Grandad was always hiding in one place and then when we had gone to look elsewhere would skulk to another spot so we never found him. Cheat!

I remember one year also, Grandad getting me a huge stand up Santa balloon that would follow you around, so much so that it followed my Nan out of the door when she went to put washing out and blew away! I was devastated.

So many nights staying over at my grandparents and playing poker with old pennies or Monopoly. Grandad made the best hot chocolate too and we were always allowed a biccie or two to go with it. They had a huge chest freezer in the garage and it always had mars ice creams or choc ices in. They also always had that yummy white vanilla ice cream and a cupboard full of ice cream toppings including a sauce you poured on that dried solid. Yum!

Momentarily forgetting, I accidentally dialled their landline number to see how the move went, a telephone number I have dialled for as long as I have been old enough to use a phone. I was greeted by that female voice we all recognise telling me that the number I had dialled was incorrect and to check and try again. It made me feel a bit sad.

The truth is though, no matter where I or they live I will always have those memories. Yes I won't visit that house again but that just means a new family with children get to make new memories there now. There is plenty of time to make new memories in their new apartment and the lovely thing about where they live now is how social it is. They are already social butterflies so no doubt soon enough I will be having to book in visits to theirs well in advance.

It isn't the building that makes the memories it is the people in it.

Photo Source: publicdomainpictures.net

1 comment:

  1. I've never known a family home. But I've known family by means of a loved one. He adored me. I would tease him, "are you on drugs, how can you love me so much?" But inside, oh i adored it. He was killed suddenly in a vehicular accident 2 moths after we set tge date to be married. I was in shock the night i got that call. For months after the funeral, i found myself calling his number, a secret part of me hoping, hed pick up.. but all there was , was that recirding this number no longer in service. And i realized i had lost .. home. I was lost again. It took me years to find myself again. And still, I'll look back, and wonder, will I ever find home again. It's been 33 yrs.. I guess I'm resolved, probably not. But for a short time.. I knew that sensation of home, the sights, the smells, the routine of it.. and most importantly, the people who are the home.. much hugs to you


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