Grama's HouseEver since she moved out thirty-five years ago I've wished I had some pictures; the succession of owners didn't seem welcoming. But now I could walk past the fish-pond, peek in the windows and conjure up some ghosts.
There was a sign on the front door. Could it be a message from my past? I searched for my glasses and got closer. "Danger. Keep Out. Stay Away. This house was used as a meth lab."
I almost fell off the porch in my dash for the car. So much for the house that built me. (I always knew Grandma was a good cook.)
To listen to the song, click here: The House That Built Me.
13 comments:
Yikes!! I remember that house a tiny bit. I'm sad to hear that it went to pot. Literally.
That song is awesome. So sad about the house though.
That is sad!
I can't even bring myself to drive by my old house. I hear the new owners trashed it and tore out my mom's beautiful garden.
I'm sorry that's what happened to your grandma's house - but the image of surprise on your face to find out about the meth lab must have been priceless.
The best thing your grandma cooked up in that house was you!
Most of the houses that have made me, so far, are still within family posession. Unlike my husband, the house he was born in has since been torn down. (I tease him and say it means he doesn't really exist.)
That is so sad about your grandma's house. :( I would probably cry if there were a sign like that on the door of any house I once occupied.
Like Hannah I too can not even drive by the first house I owned. I had my babies there and so many memories. Thankfully I took about 500 pictures of everything, even the bathrooms! Sorry about your Gramdma's house. You'll always have your memories.
that's unreal!!! such a sad ending...hope they fix it up...
I love your story and that song too. I hope my kids will have fond memories of our house.
I told my parents they can never move; not only do my kids need to have memories in the house I grew up in, we also have a pretty extensive pet cemetery in the back yard.
you never fail to deliver. Oma, this post made me laugh as much as it made me cry.
It is the feeling that was in that old house. And that was grama and grampa. What they gave us lives on in our homes, because we all have a bit of them in us. Still so sad that someone could do awful things in that sweet home where so many happy memories took place.
I don't think I could look at that blog-- I'd just cry. My childhood house was torn down and I've missed it ever since.
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