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1 Corinthians 3:4-8 “Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy, love does not parade itself, is not puffed up, does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails…”

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Going Home...


There is so much to look forward to when we step into that panoramic view of our past. One of the most exciting events of my recent Alhambra High 69 reunion was the opportunity to visit the home where I spent my childhood years.

As we drove down the street towards the old homestead I felt conflicting pangs of familiarity and sadness. There were so many changes and yet so much remains the same even after 40 years.
We pulled up in front of our old one story ranch-style house. I recognized it immediately even though it was now a pasty white instead of brown. The two palm trees at the front that started out barely 2 feet tall are now twice the height of the house. The two oblong shaped grey block flower boxes that had been at the front of the yard are gone. My mother always hated those boxes because their shape reminded her of coffins. I didn’t like them much myself because the ice plant that drew those slimy slugs. Several of those creepy crawly creatures found their way into the shoes I placed deep insidethe planter hidden from Moms view instead of on my feet. Note to all…always shake out shoes and examine intently when they are stored outside before inserting foot. This is crucial, especially when they are stashed in planter box full of squishy creatures.

I didn’t knock on doors to check but as rumored and so appears all our old neighbors have left. The Godich family homes across directly across the street, the Bryce house to the right and the Buetzow’s to the left of it; the homes had all changed mainly for the worse. The Garcia’s, the Woodward’s, the Kurtz’s old houses definitely showed the ravages of time and neglect. Ed Broad’s, who was a sheriff and lived on the corner, was really overgrown with weeds and the old dead shrubbery and dilapidated frame made it a pitiful sight. Wilma and Clyde lived on the let side of us. That house changed owners before we left. The Mulholland’s to the left and the Millers to the right were likely one of the last hold-outs. It was a bit like seeing my grandparent’s place and the neighborhood changes where they lived in Pittsburg California, years after they had passed on. Only this just hit a bit closer to home…no humor intended.

The carport of our old house was empty. Even though we went back later in the day and a car was there I still didn’t have the courage to go knock on the door. However, I did coerce my hubby into taking a cruise down the alley behind the house. The same towering block wall still stood as well as the wooden walk-through gate. The heavy double wooden gate we took the boat through had been replaced with some strange looking blocks that didn’t match the original, but I guess they served the purpose.

I strained to look into the back yard and resisted the temptation to get out and climb the wall to look in. I’ve never been arrested and I didn’t want to use this nostalgic event to change that record. So, there was nothing left to do but power back the moon roof, climb through with my trusty Nikon and try my best to stretch and catch a few strategic shots. I couldn’t see much of the back yard. What I did see was a little depressing but considering the time and changes I had seen, not unexpected.

Many of the windows I could see, especially in what had been my dad’s office, were broken and covered in old decayed multi-hued pieces of rough broken plywood. Where my beautiful rock fish pond had stood, there was a makeshift shack-like structure that looked like it might be held together with carpet tacks. Next to that was the brick and flagstone barbeque. What a disappointment. It was still standing but there had been substandard repairs and most of the bricks had been painted a strange color and were now falling apart.

The original craftsmanship and grandeur of the entire backyard, the huge rocks, the flagstone, the barbeque, and the peaceful pond filled with large beautiful goldfish are nothing but fond memories. It’s all a bit sad but I try to keep things in perspective. I’ve discovered that the great thing about memories is that they allow you to see things as they were…not like they are. In a world full of unmet expectations, unfulfilled dreams and uncertain futures, sometimes that’s exactly what we need.

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