In all my life, the only thing that I have known to remain constant is my grandmother’s house. It’s as old as I am, and it’s the only place from my childhood that I can still visit, and everything is as it was then. I grew up visiting that house, staying at Nanna and Poppa’s house. Now my son goes there to stay at his nanna’s (and grannan’s – my nanna) house.
In many ways, it’s like my nanna and that house have become one-and-the-same. She has lived there all my life. It has the original everything – hideous brown and orange kitchen, bathrooms that have tiles exploding off walls and vanities that are falling apart. Like the house, my nanna is old and worn. She is coming apart at the seems, almost literally. Her skin is aged and rips at the slightest knock. She is in constant pain, and the cracks in her
foundation memory are getting bigger.
The house has seen 5 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren over the years. We have taken our first swims in this pool and had our first fishing experiences in the canal out the back. It has seen countless birthdays, 6 first days of school, 3 marriages, 35 Christmases and many an Easter egg hunt. There was the time I hooked my cousins shorts, trying to throw out my fishing line. There was the time I buried the Christmas fruit cake in the sand at the canal and just ate the icing. There was the time my baby sister fell in the pool and Nanna jumped in, clothes and all to fish her out. There was the time….we all have stories of this house that start like this.
There are bits and pieces all around the house where my grandfather “jimmy-rigged” things to hold them together. The tiles in both bathrooms have been super-glued back to the wall more times than I can count.
While is quite literally falling apart, it is also the place that holds the most and the oldest of my child-hood memories. It is strange to think that this house may not always be in our family, and that some day, maybe sooner rather than later, it will most likely be demolished and replaced with something new and modern. But at the end of the day, it is just another building, and whether it is there or not, our memories will always remain.
What are the constants in your life? Do you have a house or a building that holds decades of memories?
Linking up with the Essentially Lovely Essentially Jess for IBOT