My family has rented a new place so last week, my father asked me if I could go and pick-up anything I wanted to keep from our old house. I haven't really lived in that house for the past 10 years, but I still had my old bedroom there, and I would always go and visit to cook and have meals with my family.
Rich and I drove over there on Sunday morning. When we went inside, it looked like a disaster zone. My family had pretty much already moved everything out and all that was left was piles of unwanted things and garbage....I spent about an hour sorting through my old things. Photos from high school, my prom dress, lots of clothes, make-up kits lots of things that I have not even seen in many years. It was kind of sentimental looking through old photographs and letters from friends and boyfriends who I have not seen in years. Remembering occasions where I wore a particular piece of clothing. Books, school assignments.
After we had loaded the car and were driving down Queens Boulevard, I felt sort of sad. Even though I didn't really live there much, I did a lot of "growing" while my family was there and I will miss lots about that place.