In August I said goodbye to my childhood home.
I say my, as if I was the only one staying there, but these are mostly my recollections tripping over one another in order to be shared.



My first memory is of us girls, ages 4-7-10 running up the carpeted stairs and staring in wonder at the double sink in the master bathroom. When we arrived, it was a new house with my older sister getting a room for the first time, while Trisha and I embraced the bunk bed (though we all really cuddled together at the bottom bunk saying our prayers while holding each other’s ears for comfort). But bit-by-bit we transformed the house as we transformed ourselves.
Continue reading “Home is an Ever-Fixed Mark”