You can't go home again

Yesterday John (Tim's dad) thought it would be fun to see a huge house we used to live in. I have some bad memories and of course some great ones. After all that is where Travis was born, where he took his first steps, where we lived communally, and where my life took a drastic turn. There was always some kind of drama so life was never boring.

We aproached from the back. A chain was tied together with a rope (we didn't technically break in). As if on auto pilot I opened the back gate and let Travis run up the familiar sidewalk. He seemed to remember everything and ran straight to the front door.

Once inside the garden my paranoia started kicking in when I saw that someone must have been there recently, the grass was freshly cut, the windows were open, bottles lay around.


I wish I hadn't gone inside, but inside was a whole lot worse. The glass to the window doors for our bedroom was broken into, so we could walk straight inside. What looked like worms and sand now covered the floor and  fireplace- I followed a horrible stench to find some rotten provisioning in a corner- I felt a bit creeped out to be honest. Maybe it was just 'cause my nerves screaming at me to get out of there, that any second cops would spring out from behind the doors and bust us. Fortunately, no such exiting thing happened but that didn't stop me from making a dash for the car.

Travis Christmas '09

Have you ever gone to an old house you used to live in? What did you find?