I usually read Gabe Kahn’s Garden State Of Mind and find the names familiar and the text deep and important. I read NJJN to get information and to try to become a little smarter. And to my utter joy I not only read, but could relate to “When a house is no longer a home”
I was 4 years old when we moved to Irvington, living in a beautiful brick home that I did not leave until I was 19. My best luck was that my parents left my bedroom as it was until they sold the house! My bed was full-size so my husband and I came back home a lot after my first baby was born, which prolonged the agony of leaving for good.
I was married for 11 years when my parents decided to sell my childhood home. I went from room to room, stopping to remember life with one telephone plugged in the wall for all to hear. This certainly included my private conversations in the living room, the same room where every prospective guy I dated sat and assured my father we would surely be back by curfew. Back among these familiar walls, everything seemed so much smaller. The worst part was every drawer in my old desk was full! Even my closet was chock full of my extra clothes. Alas, no matter when you have to leave your childhood home, it’s hard.
Reading about Kahn’s experience made me think how amazing it is that I could read an NJJN article by the editor and relate to it.
Audree Hochner Kiesel