In what other homes/places have you lived?
Lots of homes proceeded forth from the first one I remember - little did I realize that my beloved historic hovel on Quince Street would be but the beginning of many homes.
We moved to another house in Salt Lake when I grew a little older - and this would have been our last home if my dad had anything to do with it. He and his friend Brother Marsden drew up the plans, built it from the ground up, and that was it.
Except it wasn't.
Las Vegas
Economic conditions forced my father to seek employment in Las Vegas, and he stayed away for weeks and months, it felt like. He lived there, and we lived here, and we sold that house and moved to Las Vegas at the tender age of 10 years old (in my case - all five of the other children had come to our family by then, with one left to go.)
I liked our first house in Vegas - it had a sunken living room that entranced me. My dream of ballet died there after just a few lessons, a tragic casualty of the Dukes of Hazzard TV show that I loved instead.
From there, we moved to another house that fronted a busy road - not the best situation for a family full of young children, but it had a pomegranate tree that grew real pomegranates. Lost my cat Betsue there, who wandered away during a viewing of the Wizard of Oz. Never saw her again.
We moved then to our house on Acoma Court - a nice roomy house with a big desert-y backyard that my mother valiantly tried to garden. My mother tells this harrowing story of bugs filling that backyard one night, but thankfully I missed that episode. By that time, I'd reached high school, managed to make a few friends, and felt somewhat stable in life.
And then...
Maryland
My father found himself downsized, and packed his large brood up to take advantage of the opportunity to do something he'd wanted to do for a long time - move to Maryland.
And we did.
My next home was a KOA campground and a tent, for over three months. I think most of the kids considered it a great adventure, though my older brother and I had more of a sense of the disaster we faced. I swam to forget - I read to forget. My upper arms looked great that year. I couldn't afford video games or buying anything from the gift store. I found a boyfriend briefly; my first one. I would have traded all those experiences for a roof and a job for my dad.
A hastily-made friend at a local church then graciously made room for all nine of us in their home for a month or so, while my father looked for work, and we tried our best not to break anything (they had some really nice things). Again, I read, and I played on their piano. Not much else to do.
From there, work appeared, and so did a home in Bowie, MD on Killian Drive, about a mile walk from Bowie High School - I started in about a month late, and was grateful to get in at all.
Another move next year brought us to Seabury Lane, where my family stayed for a very long time. Thankfully, my walk to school dropped by about 45 minutes, and I graduated high school there.
New York (If You Can Make It There...)
...then you're doing better than I did.
In my desire to make it on Broadway as an actress, I flung my newly-graduated body up north. A crazy New Jersey roommate obsessed with Barbara Streisand and second boyfriend came along. Managed about six months before the money and morals ran out, and I had to come home or pretty much die.
Lived with my parents again for awhile, in shame and remorse. (Who has to move back home once they leave? I'd never thought I would do that!)
My slacker self managed an apartment in Gaithersburg, MD after that, while I tried to make a living on my high school diploma and my wicked typing skills. Traveled to England. Traveled to California. Traveled to Hawaii. Went bankrupt with too many credit card bills. Another crazy roommate tried to mix me up in her shenanigans. Traveled to Atlanta, and really almost died. Baby bird flew back home again, to revel in my unemployment and a super case of shingles.
Washington State
Cleaned up my act, and determined to do better from that point on. My older brother and his newly-minted wife and baby needed some assistance, so I took off West. Lived with them for a bit.
Found a roommate and moved in with her (I never did have any luck with roommates). Got married and escaped her.
We had one cheap-y apartment, until the drug bust next door. And the carpenter ants in the windows.
Then we found another apartment, a much nicer one...until I lost my job that I hated. So with very mixed emotions, we packed up the U-Haul and moved back home.
Again.
Deja-With A View
I am forever grateful to my parents for saving my can several times when I needed a place to stay. We lived with my parents for another couple of years, and my oldest boy came to us there. I couldn't bear the thought of giving him to daycare, so I told my boss I would quit a week before he was born.
Boss-man offered to set me up to work from home. This was unheard of in the 1990s, but I jumped on the opportunity.
Hubby and baby and I moved into a new apartment in the next town over from Bowie, called Crofton, MD.
Then a second apartment, also in Crofton.
Then a cheaper basement apartment in a large home, where our eldest girl came to us.
Then we found a townhouse in Crofton again, and our third child, a girl, decided to come and stay. Working at home with three infants grew untenable. We learned that 'HOA' stood for 'hell on acid', at least for us.
Then someone decided to fly some planes into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania the day after my younger brother got married, and a new trajectory got set.
Texas
We lost our jobs, which was a good thing, since I had four babies now; our last son came right after our pinkslips. We looked for work, then sold our home, and, once again, moved back in with...well, you know. Just us and four infants.
We had to choose a new location. Either Utah or Texas. The decision came down to Texas, and off we went again.
Hubby felt pretty sure we might die, even though we got a boatload of money from the sale of our home. I didn't know what to think, but our new apartment in Seagoville sheltered us through the Christmas season.
After that, a new home presented itself in the Dallas area, and we moved in.
Haven't moved since. All our kids grew up in this home, on purpose. Will probably never move again.
The End...?
Have we found our bliss at last? Was Texas the end of the line, the 'no-place-like-home' place?
The truthful answer is 'no'.
Not for me, anyway. Hubby loves Texas, front to back. I love hubby, so I stay. But it's not home.
I've moved so much in my life, I don't know that anywhere can feel like home. I might have just broken that part of me that sets down roots for generations and loves just one place; I don't know.
But at least I'm not living with my parents anymore! :-) WaHOO!
No comments:
Post a Comment