On the side of a New Jersey Street sits a little house with sky-blue siding. The house is two stories, and has one small apartment on each floor. A steep rock driveway curves around the back of the house to a three car garage. A cute little staircase leads straight up to the front door.
This blue house was my childhood house, and I got the surprising chance to re-visit that house this past week. Last week I was visiting my family in northern Jersey and we decided to take a walk through the old house because we knew the current owners. The house has been owned by my extended family for years, and almost everyone in our family has lived in it at some point during their lifetime.
When I arrived at the house with my dad and sisters, it looked exactly the same as before. The only thing that had changed was that a small bear figurine sat in the front yard, which was put outside by our superstitious uncle. The figurine made us laugh, and then we continued into the house. It was nostalgic walking up the stairs to the second story apartment and stepping into my old room.
I as walked around, I remembered old stories…waking up in the attic on April Fool’s Day to see a foot of snow outside, going to the park across the street, and when our car rolled off the back driveway into our neighbor’s pool. There are so many memories in that house and it made me think of all the places I had lived over the years.
My family has lived in Arizona, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. I lived most of my life in the little city of Lancaster which is surrounded by miles of farm land. Whenever I tell people I’m from Lancaster, they always ask if I’m Amish. I don’t mind constantly being asked this, and instead I find the question humorous. Just like my childhood town in New Jersey, Lancaster has a special place in my heart.
Now I call Newark, Delaware my home. This town has grown on me each semester, mostly because of the friendly college students and the quaint little shops on Main Street. Each time class starts again, I can’t wait to come back. I love returning to our campus with the picturesque brick buildings and greens out of a storybook. I feel like I’ve had so many different homes over the years, but the thing that makes each place special is the people that I’ve met in all the different communities.
It took me a long time to realize that spending time with people is the best part of life. I used to care completely about schoolwork, planning ahead, and achieving the next goal. This year I really have taken care to get to know people and I now appreciate every single conversation I have with my friends and family. Without my friends and family, my childhood house would have been nothing more than just a house. It sounds cliché, but home truly is where the heart is. Now I can’t wait to one day buy my own house and create even more memories. Who knows…maybe one day I’ll live in my childhood house again.
