The day before Victoria Day, I went out for a walk along 8th Street, probably the least pedestrian-friendly street on the planet. Trucks with modified mufflers hunt you at crosswalks. The weather was something between the set of The Thing and a Meatloaf video.
But on Victoria Day the sun came out. So we all went out to my childhood home to have a barbecue. It's being sold at the end of the month, and I'll never see it again.
Strange (and *quiet*) to wander the house so empty. So small. It seems like another lifetime ago.
And then today it's been black skies, and rain, mixed in with snow.
Flying back tomorrow. Mom asked me what I'll do if Oona has a poop on the plane. I just looked away, like someone showing me a J-7 spades.
But on Victoria Day the sun came out. So we all went out to my childhood home to have a barbecue. It's being sold at the end of the month, and I'll never see it again.
Strange (and *quiet*) to wander the house so empty. So small. It seems like another lifetime ago.
And then today it's been black skies, and rain, mixed in with snow.
Flying back tomorrow. Mom asked me what I'll do if Oona has a poop on the plane. I just looked away, like someone showing me a J-7 spades.
I went through my grandparents' homes before they were sold. They were the closest I had to a stable home growing up, we moved a lot.
ReplyDeleteIt was so strange, and everything seemed so tiny. Everything but the emotion, of course. That was huge.