Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry


I flew down here to help my parents move. It's been hard work. I'm glad for the work though because it would be too hard if I didn't have something to exhaust me. It's hard to say good bye to my childhood home. I have so many memories that seem like they belong to a different person. A child who thought he was straight or at least wanted to be...

When my grandparents called today I made myself scarce. I didn't want to talk to them at all. I worried that my dad would track me down and hand me the phone, but luckily I was forgotten. I had spent the whole day watching bits of my home moved to another house by people I grew up with who barely acknowledged me. I was an outsider. I was different and they all treated me that way. The last thing I wanted was another person I knew to be awkward with me, as if I was the new boyfriend who could never measure up. I didn't want to talk to my grandparents about why I didn't have a girlfriend, when I was going to get married or any of the other things estranged family members ask.

Being treated like this all day just shut my past off from me even more. The people I knew growing up didn't know me anymore and for whatever reason didn't care to get to know me again. Someone said they couldn't understand what I had said because of my "San Francisco accent." Maybe I don't want to get to know them again either. My childhood home was now gone and so was any idea that I could ever come back. I was no longer welcome in my own personal history. All those stories of things that happened when we were kids became stories about when I was a kid. Something to be told rather than shared. My connection was severed. My childhood home was gone.

When I came back inside the new house I noticed the family dog Blaze was sitting in the back of their opened Forerunner. She wore a tired sad look on her face and it dawned on me why she was sitting back there. She was a scared. She didn't know what was going on, she didn't understand why things were suddenly different. She was worried she was going to be left behind. Blaze just wanted to go back home.

Leave Home - Chemical Brothers - Singles 93-03


( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
May. 8th, 2005 08:55 pm (UTC)
that's such a hard thing...having to let go of things like the home you grew up in
i get so crazy sentimental over such things
i haven't seen you in so long my cute little monkey boy
i'd love to hang out when you have time
May. 8th, 2005 09:26 pm (UTC)
I went through something similar when my Mom died -- I very quickly drifted away from her side of the family. It happens. It's so strange when you go from family to "family".
May. 8th, 2005 09:31 pm (UTC)

I know home was that way sometimes for me. It's taken a while, but my parents and I have worked through things and still hard, but still wokring on it. It'll come. It's the past, and it always will be fortunately or unfortunately. But now, you've got life now, live it where it is now..

May. 8th, 2005 09:45 pm (UTC)
I remember when my parents left the house we all grew up in. I had been up and out for many years when the time came and I felt no sentimental attachment to the place at all. I didn't have a particularly terrible childhood but neither was it particularly happy. Looking back, I was always my brothers' little brother or Dr. Floyd's son; always being measured against their yardstick, never quite right. I was glad to be away to where people knew me
as me instead of whose brother or son I was.

I always feel sorry for bewildered animals. They are so utterly lost when their world's are fucked with until they make the adjustment, if they make the adjustment. I had a friend a while back who had a dog who had spent his puppyhood and adolescence in one condo and knew it as home. The guy bought a new condo after a bit and the poor dog was really freaked out by it. For one thing it had hardwood floors which offered no traction (the dog had grown up with carpeting and liked to race around the apartment which it could no longer do without skidding about everywhere). Not long after the move something happened to the dog's nervous system, I'm not sure what, but it required a visit to the vet and an operation which the dog didn't survive. I think stress brought it on whatever it was. That dog couldn't even walk around the apartment without slipping and the combination of a new place and no traction took away his security.

Couldn't understand your San Francisco accent huh? I'm glad you have the life and friends you have now. It's so much nicer than all the crap that happens in formative stages.
May. 9th, 2005 05:21 am (UTC)
I have so many memories that seem like they belong to a different person. A child who thought he was straight or at least wanted to be...

Hold on to those dear memories. You may have lost your childhood home, but your memories of it should stay with you.

I consider my memories more precious than any treasure. And I believe our memories is what makes us who we are right now.
May. 9th, 2005 01:14 pm (UTC)
Shared Moments.
You can always share your childhood moments here. I always look forward to reading them because they are the best stories ever. Writen in such a way that anyone who reads them can relate. Much more interesting than my childhood stories ever seemed. Mine were all the same. The nice fat kid who got picked on all the time stories.

*HUGS* Monkey.

May. 12th, 2005 07:07 pm (UTC)
oh sugarlump, i'm so sorry that your weekend was so hard. it is hard to move, especially when it's your childhood home. i've never really had a childhood home, because we moved so much. but remember when my mom moved from the townhouse, and you came over to be with me in the empty space...and YOU cried. it's hard, it shakes you up. i can only imagine what it must have been like for you. i'm sorry that i couldn't have been there for you. my mom was in town, and i got super sick. i have bronchitis. i haven't left my house since sunday morning! anyhoo...i'm thinking of you, loving you (and your san francisco accent! what the hell was that?!) and supporting you 100%. you know you can call or email me anytime...i'm here. i love you!

May. 12th, 2005 09:00 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I've been meaning to call you to see how you are feeling and tell you my thoughts on Lydia. It was sad that I couldn't watch it with you and your mom. Kirsten stayed for the first act but couldn't watch the second. Trevor and Eugene both went as well. Jannie couldn’t make it. I really enjoyed the show... As traumatic as it is...
May. 12th, 2005 11:09 pm (UTC)
i'm so sick. i think i might be getting a little better, but man oh man, i'm sick. haven't left the house since Sunday, am sleeping, drinking juice, taking robitussin and antibiotics. and i stink. i guess that's a good sign that i can smell. :) i need to take a shower and change jammies. i REALLY want to hear your thoughts on the show, so please call me, i'm home. i'll be watching must see tv tonight from 8:30-11, but before that i'm just laying on the couch. and tomorrow i doubt i'm going to work, so i should be home all day. need to go drink some juice now. love ya!
May. 15th, 2005 10:30 pm (UTC)

It's so hard for animals when we uproot theior worlds like that. They really need special attention during those times. They aren't so different to us in respect of their feelings towards places.

I chose to see the selling of my childhood homes as a chance for my parents to grow, and so I chose to be happy for them. I also saw it as a chance to distill something out of the jumble of present memories that would assault me every time I went to those homes: I could take out of them only the most important, most shaping experiences of childhood and adolescence, and carry them with me.

We need to find the blessing in change.

I would still like to have been there to hug you through that day though.
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )