This old house

I went to visit my uncle yesterday. I havent seen him since the baby was born, even though I speak to him daily. He has been going through a rough time in all aspects of his life, and I needed to see him and take the kids to his little corner of the world. Being there and in my old neighborhood, helped me to feel my roots. My mother and I went for a walk as Keith and my uncle relaxed at his home. I needed to see my old house. My old yard. My old window. As we walked through, I felt like a giant. Everything that seemed enormous to me as a kid, was smaller. It felt as if I was almost walking amongst a tiny legoland. Did the houses shrink? Did I get too big? I think it was the latter. My old world was no longer this world I was walking in. I was just visiting and I could only stay for a little while. I wasn't part of the scenery anymore. And the scenery, was something different.

Instead of family friendly neighboring surroundings, were renovated homes, where my friend's homes once stood. Those that werent renovated were falling to pieces. And my old home? My home where I grew up, where my mother grew up, was falling to pieces. I felt injured in a way. I took my children through and showed them the field where I played baseball. I took pictures in front of my old home. As old and decrepit as it was. It was important for me to take that picture. I wanted to knock and go inside. I wanted to transform it back to my home. My childhood. But I couldn't. Bistros and cafe's lined the streets where little old "Dona and Dono stores" were once filled with penny candy and limber (coconut snow cones). Carribean and French eateries took their places. People listening to steel drum rythyms instead of the ice cream truck strolling by. There was one thing that caught my eye. And said what I was feeling. The graffiti on the wall on the corner of my old alleyway. It said "I heart you Cleveland" and under that in blue writing was another phrase "This is my life". Yes. It is. Even if I was no longer living there. Even if I was no longer that little girl. This is my life indeed.

This is my old house. My old bedroom window is boarded up.

in front of the old house with my children.

The church next to my old home. I would stare out my bedroom window and daydream while listening to the church bells.

Bistros and cafes.

I love you Cleveland.