Skip to main content

247

Just inside my grandparents' closet, where every child, grandchild and great-grandchild were measured in height...we're a TALL family.
This is what you'd see when you came up the driveway.

My Nanna's garden was always special to me.  I remember being able to cut my own flowers for my bedside when I'd visit.

THE beach.  Just a few blocks away from the house and a special place for all of us...


 Gosh....I know it's been awhile.  Life sure does get in the way when a blog is just a hobby.  I could say I've had writer's block, but I haven't.  This little post of mine is gonna be emotional.  

My family had to sell my grandparents' home this month because my grandmother is unable to live there.  She's in a great & better place where she'll get the care she needs and we're all so happy for that.  However, this house has been a staple in our family forever.  And, for some of us, I literally mean FOREVER.  I was brought home from the hospital on Christmas Eve and brought to this home.  It's the first address I memorized and, quite honestly, the only house I've considered a home.  It was a constant.  A staple.  It was always there.

It's the house I would spend Summer visits as a kid if I was lucky enough to go.  I took my first BIG girl trip by myself there the summer my parents divorced.  I got to visit as a preteen remembering how COOL it was to fly from my little hometown in Alabama to the great state of California.  I flew there on my 16th birthday to celebrate what is now my last family Christmas in the house.  I mourned the loss of my grandfather there.  I brought my now husband there to meet my family for the first time...

I remember sweet visits, dips in the hot tub, walks along the beach, going up the incredibly scary and winding stairs to the rooftop in order to see a better view of the ocean.  I remember the Meyer Lemon tree in the backyard planted so that there was a never ending supply of lemons for our family drink: the G&T!  I remember sweet smells of a gorgeous garden as a child.  I remember this view.  This precious view of the Pacific that was right outside my grandparents' dining room.  

And I remember taking this photo in January and realizing that it could be (and was) last time I stood on that deck and enjoyed that view.  My heart hurts. 

I wish I could share the stories I have of this place with y'all without boring you to tears.  And I only have the fraction that my family does.  I will share one....because, well, it makes my heart happy.

Some people remember things by the smell or sight of things.  I usually remember smells, however, there is one sound that I will never forget.  When the family was cleaning out our grandparents' home, there was an obvious division of belongings.  I was asked if there was anything that I wanted and I honestly couldn't think of anything.  It's such a difficult question to answer. "Everything belongs to Nanna and Gang-Gang, doesn't it?"

  So, I waited.  I was telling my bestie, E, about the fact the house was selling and how sad it made me.  I told her how I will never, ever forget of the sound the door knocker made AFTER someone came into the house and closed the door.  It was like some sort of reverberation.  It would just "knock, knock" once or twice more on their front door.  I can't tell you how or why I remember it.  I can't tell you the feeling just thinking of that sound gives me, but I KNEW what I wanted.  So, I sent my sweet cousin a text asking for what was the probably the last thing on Earth anybody would ask for....and a couple weeks later, I woke up to the best picture ever:


She got the freaking door knocker!!  I think I want to completely redo my front door and add this as the perfect final touch.  I am overjoyed!

247 Aptos Beach Drive will forever be my family's home.  It will forever be the sweet place where holidays were spent, family came together, babies were cuddled, where people laughed and cried together, where I learned to make my first proper G&T and a million other memories were made.  I'm sad.  I miss it and I wish so badly I could go back and walk through there again....but I probably wouldn't want to leave.

So for now, I'll take my door knocker and cherish the sound.

Comments

  1. That house was a very special place...I have several wonderful memories from that house and what going there meant. The trips in the back of the truck with GangGang, the meals that were made, the trips to the beach. I was 15 the last time I was there, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Sitting on the porch, chatting away, while everyone had their favorite drinks. The stories GangGang would tell to us kids...All such wonderful memories and such wonderful times.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I loved your story Helen! :) beautiful. And your memories of the house will always be with you.
    take care!

    ReplyDelete
  3. This was lovely - and so sweet. You almost made me cry. :) Ask Donnie, that's pretty hard to do!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Questions? Comments? Share away!

Buzz kill? Keep on moving!

Popular posts from this blog

Patsy.

A friend sent this video to me and when I watched it, I was struck more by the feelings it brought up around the content than the story itself.  Christen Reighter's story is an interesting and frustrating insight into what it means to NOT want a child. I invite you to watch this. Her experience is not unique and needs to be talked about. Even if you have kids. Or want them. What struck me most was what she says during her TedTalk: "I have believed having children was an extension of womanhood, not the definition." Truth is, I've been struggling with this lately. Not the fact that I'm longing for children. I'd be fibbing if I said there is a very tiny part of me that wonders what this will feel like when I get to the end of life. HOWEVER. That feeling isn't strong enough for me to want to find out. I don't feel like having children should be thought of as a "keeping the fingers crossed" kind of situation. If you aren't sure you'l

Experimental.

I have a little secret. Today marks 30 days since my last drink**. I had attempted a 30-day alcohol-free period in January of 2018 which ended up being, arguably, one of the most challenging years of my life. I made it 26 days miserable days and it all ended because Brucey , my beloved rescue dog, died while I was traveling to Miami for an event. This is when I discovered that Walgreen's sells wine (what?!).  I look back at my first alcohol-free attempt and I realize that I wasn't really set up for success. Hindsight and all that... Not only did I try to detox on January 1st, but I was also newly ramping up training for my big bike adventures AND I decided to try my hand at 30-days of Yoga with Adriene . All of these things independently are (and were) really good things. Healthy. Mindful. Etc. Etc. However, I went into that period of time looking at not drinking as punishment. This dry spell was needed more than ever. With COVID hitting a year ago (that's another post in i

Goodbye.

 “I don’t know if I should congratulate you or console you.” - Craig “How about both?” - Me This was a conversation in our kitchen earlier this week. After a year and a half of weekly therapy, I had my last session with my therapist Tuesday. Not because I was over it or because it wasn’t working or because he retired. Nope. Because we got to a place where we could both say I’ve got the tools I need to move on. I have to say that there is no timeline for therapy and every situation is unique. I moved on from intensive therapy with my therapist because that it was worked for ME. I am certainly no expert and I have a feeling this isn’t the end of my therapy forever, but I do know that my experience with the right person allowed me to heal in ways I literally never thought possible. And it gave me the experience of a healthy “goodbye”. I was never prepared for that, so when we set an end date (not-so-coincidentally my Nanna’s birthday), it was hard to process. No one talks about