House on Nectarine Drive with Grandma Smith
I know both by heart. It’s like a rhyme in my head, even the zip code. Must be because they haven’t moved in a LONG time, especially Grandma and Grandpa Smith who’ve been in the same house since my mom was little.
I love that.
In all of my dreams, every single time I’m in a house that is mine, it’s the house in Newnan, Ga. No dreams in my California house, Peachtree City apartment, Wisconsin house or Wisconsin apartment. The house is still so clear in my mind. I feel like if I could draw, I would be able to draw it exactly the way it is — inside and outside.
I remember my bedroom, sitting at the dinner table, listening to music downstairs, playing basketball in the driveway, camping in the backyard, driving the car in the backyard (and almost hitting the back porch), jumping back and forth over the ditch, missing the school bus, getting two new puppies, roller skating in the garage and listening to Whitney Houston (pretending I was a figure skater) for hours, and cooking my chicken and veggie masterpiece from scratch. I know I wrote down the recipe somewhere in one of mom’s recipe books. It turned out OK.
I even remember the man that knocked on our door to tell us about a church he was starting. I answered the door along with my mom the day that Pastor Derrick stopped by. It’s odd to me now that I remember that day, but it must be because our time with the church, as it grew from congregating in an elementary school to our very own building, was also some great times and great memories.
I remember being younger and getting older. There are many, many wonderful memories in that house.
No matter how many times we have moved, I cherish those many years we lived in the house in Peachtree Landing on Nectarine Drive.
It was the house that built me.
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