It just so happens I visited the house in which I grew up two years ago, in 2019. I took a picture, and matched that with one I found of myself in front of the house about the same time of year in 1965 when I was fifteen years old. That top floor room at the front was my room– it was biggest room in the house with a “walkin” closet built into the eaves. I felt spoiled, for sure!
My parents thought the only girl in the family needed the larger room. My older brother had already moved out and was serving in the Army in Japan. My brother’s room was on the back side of the house on the top floor and my parent’s room on the main floor, which comprised of the living room with steps to upstairs, the dining room and side room for my parents, the kitchen with an added bathroom sometime in the 40’s probably. It was a farm house in 1898, out in the country.
We moved there when I was in the fourth grade to move away from our house on eighth street, which was close to the railroad tracks and the “other” side of town.
I wish I could find a summer picture of the house– with the lovely garden on the walkway to the left, filled with sweet peas, zinnias, bachelor buttons, and marigolds. It was a delight to enjoy. The vegetable garden was in the back yard. I loved the front garden and it and my memories in this house influenced my illustration for “roller skate:”
I remember the kilt and the shoes in the picture, but not the necklace or sweater. The clothes were hand-me-downs from my cousin Christine in Lansing, MI. Every two years she got a new wardrobe, and I received a huge box of her “old” clothes, which I loved because they were just in style in North Dakota!
Needless to say, I did not grow up rich, but I did grow up loved.
Fifty-four years changed both me and the house, which is now owned by Catholic Charities, donated by the landlord after my parents, his renters, passed away.
When Harry passed away, his will allowed my mom to live their rent free. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, so this gracious gift was a godsend to her in her senior years. I’m sure we just don’t hear enough “good news” stories, and this is one of them. I believe we have more “good people” in the world than not.
The Daily Create: another Slice of My Life.
Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts/Media Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker~~
Art from the Heart