My old house was not just a house, it was my home. I grew up there and knew every inch of every room by heart. I still do. The amount of memories that I have created there are endless. Whenever I think about or drive by the house, all the memories come rushing in. It reminds me of the many games my brothers and I played, the funny moments, first pets, first best friends, and many other firsts. It ultimately reminds me of my childhood.
When I was younger, I would run around the basement with my brothers and cousin while playing the “monster” game that we created. I would run around chasing them like I was a monster while they ran away from me. I remember laughing and eventually getting called up for dinner, and scarfing down our dinosaur chicken nuggets so we could rush to get back downstairs again.
I would climb the trees in the front yard all the time. I loved climbing the trees so much that I even made up a name for each tree I climbed. I used to spend hours and hours outside, pretending I lived in the wilderness. I’m not sure why, but I spent so much of my time outside. It was so fun for my brothers and me. We also had names for the huge rocks in my backyard. My brothers and I would run around and stand on top of them and feel like we were on top of the world. Playing in the outdoors with the trees and rocks is one of the biggest and most significant memories of my old house.
Aside from all the positive and light-hearted memories, there are some scary ones that I will never forget.
When I was around 5 years old, I was laying on the couch in the family room after a long day of playing with my brother and babysitter at the time, Anne. While watching Disney Channel, I started to fall asleep. As I was almost asleep, I heard my babysitter gasp and run towards me. I had no idea what was happening so as she picked me up from the couch, I made sure to turn and grab my stuffed elephant, Ellie. She ran away from the family room with me in her arms. I saw David running too. I was so confused. We eventually got to the front door and I asked what was happening. Anne said there was a flying squirrel right above me as I was sleeping! I was terrified. Coincidentally, as we opened the front door to go outside, my parents arrived back from their night out. Anne explained to them what happened and my dad went and carefully set up a trap to catch the squirrel. That’s all I remember. This memory will always stay with me. At the time I was a scared little 5 year old girl, but looking back now, I laugh at it. It reminds me of all the memories I have with my babysitter Anne, who I haven’t seen in a while. She has a family of her own now.
Another scary memory that I laugh about now is a night during Hurricane Sandy. I was 10 years old. After our power went out, for some reason my mom and I decided to sleep in the family room, which is a one-story section of the house. I still don’t know why we chose to sleep there. So, in the middle of the night, I moved from the floor of the family room to the kitchen, which was beneath 3 stories. I felt safer. My mom stayed in the family room on the couch. Later on in the night, I heard a crack, and so did my mom. She jumped from the couch into the kitchen and the sound of the tree falling onto the living room shook the whole house. When I looked at where the tree fell, there was a huge branch sticking through the ceiling, almost reaching the floor. It was exactly where I had been sleeping before I moved. If I hadn’t moved into the kitchen earlier on in the night, the branch would have impaled me! This was absolutely terrifying at the time, but now I’m just grateful I moved.
I have endless memories from the house that I will never forget, both happy and scary, but all exciting. The house will always have a sentimental value to me. Sadly, our time in the old house had to come to an end. We wanted to renovate, but the project was too big and wouldn’t work. So, we moved when I was in eighth grade.
The new house is great. It has everything we want in a house, besides the memories of my childhood. We were, and are happy, but there will always be something missing in our house. It feels as if a chapter of my life is missing. My childhood.
My old house will always remind me of my childhood. Gratefully, we pass the old house often. So, every time I see it I think of all the memories and exciting stories of my past. Even though we don’t live there anymore, I will always remember it.
The theme that is present throughout my paper is loss of innocence/childhood. My old house is a symbol of my childhood, and moving made me feel as if I lost that. Even though I moved and don’t live in that house anymore, it doesn’t mean I will forget it. That house will always symbolize my childhood and mean a lot to me.