Home

Have you ever gone back to your childhood home and just stared at it? I know so many people that go home to the house they grew up and don’t even think about it. Their parents lived there all their life and it’s home’. 

I lived in a few homes in Sherwood Park and when my parents moved into the city, my mom asked if I was going to be home for Christmas dinner. I asked her if the new people would mind if we all showed up for dinner. Home didn’t feel like their new house because I didn’t live there. Home was the house on the hill. A lot of things are pointing me back to the nostalgic parts of my life. I don’t get out to Sherwood Park anymore. I was in there visiting a friend and decided I would take a tour of all the old places and see how they differ from my memory.

My first stop was my high school. It’s not a high school anymore, it’s now the school that was by the traffic circle and now it’s here. When I was in grade two I lived across the street from it and now there is a playground in the rugby field. My first thought was, huh, I wonder how many pet bones they dug up. That playground did not exist. There was an empty rugby field in its place. It was a pet cemetery for me and all our friends. we had funerals ALL THE TIME. Mostly for frogs and birds, sometimes worms, but there are a few hamsters and two puppies buried there, or were.

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Then I stopped at Great Oaks I. When we moved back here from the North West Territories this was the house I remembered. We didn’t live here long, just long enough to have a super fun summer with lots of friends. I am still friends with one of the fellows. We reconnected years later. Thanks Running Room!

From that house, we moved to Glen Allan and my next stop.

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I drove by my elementary school and jr high first. I met Jean Vanier and at the time I hadn’t the foggiest who he was. If you don’t know, here is some info. He spoke French and was very kind. I was sad to note a parking lot where the outdoor hockey rink used to be. But the trees and playgrounds all looked the same. I met some very nice humans here and two influential teachers, Mrs. Anderson and Mr. Gleason. I am still in touch with some old friends who I met here. Thanks Facebook!

My house looks very different. First off, all the trees my dad planted are gone. Secondly…what the heck is happening with the wood? My house had white roman columns and green shutters. There was a patio out front with a lawn swing. We sat out there every day after supper and rocked back and forth with my mom and dad. I loved that swing. My room was the window on the bottom left. That was where the swing was. I made a fortune babysitting in the neighbourhood and because I was a money miser, I never needed loans for university. Thanks Neighbours!

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I then went to my home when I was three. I remember the friends I met and became Danger Girl in that house. I connected with a friend at Smokey Lake Pumpkin fair, I first met her on this street. I loved everything about living here. There is a fish buried in that yard and ghosts living across the street, probably because the fish. This place is still beautiful and I would consider moving in today. Pretty great for a 50-year-old complex! The memories are stellar from here. Look how happy the door is? My room was the upper right window. I swear the fence is exactly the same. Thanks Greenwood Village!

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My grandparents, both sets, lived not too far away from this house. So I decided to stop by and see what their houses look like now that my grandparents are no longer there.

I learned to build kites that would lift your feet off the ground in that garage. This house used to have red cedar siding. That’s how I remember it. It was the original showhome in Sherwood Park – or rather Campbelltown. One owner for 60 bazillion years. I ate macaroni and drank coffee in that kitchen. It was home to a print shop and the house always smelled of ink and paper. It is still one of my favourite smells. Thanks Grandpa!

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This house is where I walked to every day after school. I would sit at the table and drink tea with my great-grandma. I had my fifth birthday party in that house. I watched a lot of football and learned football minutes are longer than real minutes. I learned you could either love the Eskimos or the Riders but you had to choose. Loyalty is important.  My great-grandma taught me to count to 100 and how to talk to children so they think they are special and important. I cry when I think about how wonderful she was to me. The house used to be brown. I swear I saw my gram walking up the steps in her blue Sunday best holding her cane as I stood there looking at that house. If that house came up for sale, I would consider buying it. Thanks Little Gram!

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Nothing has changed and everything has changed. It was fun strolling down memory lane. I should have brought my siblings. Next time.

 

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