Comments on: A House On Decatur Avenue

By: Lisa T (i gues it is B now:)

Lisa T (i gues it is B now:) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 02:37:58 +0000

What a beautiful post! Can I add to the list of memories?!? I remember your birthday/end of school parties, eating your mom’s cooking, watching scary movies, sharing your bed countless time, and always having such a good time. Your house is such a part of my teenage! I know what it is like to lose your childhood home…it is something that can never be replaces. It is like you have to now go out and define your own ‘home’. A bit sad and bitter sweet and yet at the same time gives this strange sense of ease to know that a home is not defined by a house.
Love love love

By: Ern

Ern — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 06:54:34 +0000

There was supposed to be a hug at the beginning of that last comment. I don’t know what happened. :)

By: Ern

Ern — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 06:53:54 +0000

chica. What beautiful memories.

It’s still strange (11 years after they sold it and moved) to visit my parents in their home that is not my home from childhood.

By: Rhi

Rhi — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 04:08:33 +0000

This is exactly how I felt when we sold my Grandma’s house. I always felt so safe and at home there. I hope to be able to provide the same type of home to my children some day.

By: Hänni

Hänni — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 20:25:15 +0000

I love the talking through vents and sneaking out at midnight to discover you had nowhere to go. The rural northwest is a wonderful place to grow up. :)

By: mamatulip

mamatulip — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 16:53:09 +0000

Oh, this post hit me *right there*. I grew up in one house, too. Aside from the house my husband and I live in now, that little house was the only place I have ever truly felt at home in. When my mother died we inherited the house; we fixed it up and lived there for two years before I was ready to move.

I has the chance to go through the house about a year after we’d moved from it and it was a very cool experience for me. I loved the way it looked, how it had changed and the way the new owner had made it her own. It was such a positive experience for me..I wasn’t sad at all, because I remember everything about that house in my mind, just as it was.

Love love this post.

By: 52 Faces

52 Faces — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 10:44:12 +0000

Oh my Kerri, what a freaking gorgeous blog you have here.

I’m so curious where this particular Decatur is located…

Surfed here through BlogHer – nice to meet you!

By: Kristan

Kristan — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 23:06:38 +0000

What a truly beautiful piece. Thank you for sharing your memories in such a wonderfully written way.

By: Darcey

Darcey — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 17:49:17 +0000

Like a few others who’ve commented, I’ve lived in so many houses that none of them could be considered my “childhood home”. From ages 0-18, I lived in (hold on… counting…) 8 houses in two different states. And from 18-28 (almost 29, OMG!), I’ve lived in 12 homes, or 8 if you only consider everything after college.

It actually feels really good to have purchased my own house this year. I am slowly getting the feeling when I pull into my garage that this is really mine – I’m not renting or leasing, it is my little townhouse on my little street in my neighborhood of the big ol’ city of Atlanta.

By: Amy --- Just A Titch

Amy --- Just A Titch — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 05:17:26 +0000

Goodness, this post is lovely. I live 10 minutes from my parents, who still live in my childhood home, and sometimes, when I’m feeling sad or unsure, my lip quivers when I leave because I just miss that feeling of safety you described so, so much.

Great post.