Tidbits from Tallulah's last trip

During the last days in California before the big move for mom, we decided to drive by the old homestead for one last look. At first I didn't want to see what "they" had done to the old 40's tract house, but I was at the mercy of my family. With a lump in my throat I got out of the car and gazed upon the new Mediterranean style. The first thing that I noticed was my tree was gone. Quickly I took this picture cause the occupant was leaving for work and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable by snapping tons of pictures.

After this picture was taken he was staring right at me, so I just went right up to him and told him the story, his reaction was a good one. Wearing a Jerry Garcia t-shirt with an anti bush sticker on the back of his Prius, he offered to take me on a tour. I declined however deep inside I couldn't help but feel a twinge of happiness, As I grew up in a staunch repugnican presbyterian household, the thought that the new occupants were prius owning, deadhead donning professionals made me elated.

I told him, if those walls could talk you'd have a great story. He then told me that all the drywall had been replaced, terrazzo tiles covered the floors (ugh how could they do that to hardwood floors!) and walls knocked out. Deflated, I realized that the walls that had a story were now in a landfill. Reality quickly reminded me that things and places are just that, life is constantly changing, my old house is simply a memory. I am one of the lucky ones to have had the same home base for 39 years. Silly how one can get so emotional over a thing.