Memories Of A Distant Past
This is the house my mom grew up in. It’s condemned now but because of its historical heritage in can’t be torn down.
I had a visit last weekend from my first cousin who I haven’t seen in 28 years. We reconnected on face book and she decided to divert her trip back home to see her sisters, to stopping in Pa first to visit my family. How exciting? She is four years older than me which makes her my sister’s age. Two days apart to be exact.
She told tales of things I hadn’t remembered. She told stories of grand mom and grand pop that aren’t even a distance memory for me. I was 2 or 3 when grand pop died and in high school when grand mom died. The only recollection I have of grand mom was that I wasn’t her favorite and I got blamed for everything that went wrong. I don’t have the memories of visiting this house or playing in the cemetery that sat directly behind it. I don’t have the memory of smelling the molasses cookies baking on Saturday mornings after a sleepover. You don’t miss the things you’ve never had but listening to stories is when you wish you had them.
My cousin drove in on Saturday and spent two nights with me. After spending all day Sunday visiting at my sister’s with the rest of the family we decided to drive by this old house that she remembers spending countless hours and sleepovers at, with my sister.
While we were taking pictures a man walked by with his dog, staring at us like we were doing something wrong, so I made a smart remark about being with the historical society so he started to ask questions about it. I replied only that my mom grew up in this house. He seemed to know more and continued to tell me that someone is interested in buying and restoring this house. He wants to subdivide the land and put a new house on either side but is having trouble with the zoning because of the cemetery. It will be interesting to see what gets done with it. At least now I have a before picture.