The Community for Catholic Moms
Going Home
This past week I had an opportunity to drive up to northern New Jersey, where I could show the kids the two primary homes of my childhood -- one a little red saltbox in the backhills of Sussex, New Jersey; the other ten miles away or so in Hamburg, NJ.
I was not prepared for what I found. The little red saltbox has turned into a rambled-down trash heap, with old cars rusting in the yard and our next door neighbor's grown through with weeds. My parents' trim little garden is piled high with refuse and yard waste, and the roof is sagging in.
The "Gibson Girl" ice-cream parlor where I'd spent so many cozy evenings on a Saturday night with my current beau had been torn down. Gone the red-flocked wallpaper, the high-backed chairs, the mile-high sundaes. "How could they tear down such a charming place?" I asked the locals at the breakfast place where we'd stopped. They looked at me blankly . . . apparently the Gibson Girl had been gone for quite some time.
The next house was a bit better; the mint-green stucco has been replaced with attractive beige siding, and the little white birch we'd planted as children now towered overhead. But there were changes there, too -- the screened in porch has been pulled out, the glider replaced with nondescript yard furniture. There was no one home, so I had no way to tell what it was like inside.
I walked away feeling sad. As much as any place I've ever lived, these were "home" to me. And even though the buildings themselves were still standing (barely), that "homeness" was missing. Home is now in Michigan, home is where I make it.
What is "home" to you?
I was not prepared for what I found. The little red saltbox has turned into a rambled-down trash heap, with old cars rusting in the yard and our next door neighbor's grown through with weeds. My parents' trim little garden is piled high with refuse and yard waste, and the roof is sagging in.
The "Gibson Girl" ice-cream parlor where I'd spent so many cozy evenings on a Saturday night with my current beau had been torn down. Gone the red-flocked wallpaper, the high-backed chairs, the mile-high sundaes. "How could they tear down such a charming place?" I asked the locals at the breakfast place where we'd stopped. They looked at me blankly . . . apparently the Gibson Girl had been gone for quite some time.
The next house was a bit better; the mint-green stucco has been replaced with attractive beige siding, and the little white birch we'd planted as children now towered overhead. But there were changes there, too -- the screened in porch has been pulled out, the glider replaced with nondescript yard furniture. There was no one home, so I had no way to tell what it was like inside.
I walked away feeling sad. As much as any place I've ever lived, these were "home" to me. And even though the buildings themselves were still standing (barely), that "homeness" was missing. Home is now in Michigan, home is where I make it.
What is "home" to you?
Tags: home
Views: 1
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Karen Cross on -
This post made me a little sad too. My parents just got divorced and our "home" was sold to strangers. It's in Massachusetts, I'm in Maryland. I dread the day I have to go back and see it changed. It's going to be weird. We grew up in that house, from the day I was born. 40 years later, someone I have never met before has taken over.
But you're right Heidi, home is here now, in Maryland, with my family. And I'm quite happy and content here. Thanks so much for this post. -
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Permalink Reply by Kerrie Desposito on
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Heidi...I was attracted to your post since you were talking about Sussex County - where I am from, plus I think you're talking about The Gibson Girl in Sparta - which had the BEST ice cream sundaes. Yum. Our family moved east while I was in college, and I've only been back three times (once was for the Farm & Horse Show) and each time, something that was "home" to me is unrecognizable. *sigh*
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Permalink Reply by Heidi Hess Saxton on -
I know. It hit me like a ton of bricks when I went to take my kids to Gibson Girl ... AND IT WASN'T THERE!!! (Oh, the pain of it.)
Your family moved East? From New Jersey? Trying to imagine where that might be ... New York? London? Budapest?
Just a little Jersey Girl humor... Ha.
Thanks for writing! -
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Well, NYC....lol
Actually, that Burger King nearby used to have table service.....ahhhh growing up in Sussex County. -
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Permalink Reply by Heidi Hess Saxton on
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Ah ... wasn't sure since you said you hadn't been back. I mean, Jersey isn't THAT far from the Big Apple.
Nice chatting with you! -
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