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I received an email from a childhood friend this weekend, she was telling me that she drove down our old block and my childhood home was being torn down. She stated she got a little teary eyed as she saw this, because all the memories were being torn down and soon there will be none left.

Thankfully when I was up in Chicago last October I made a point to go to the old neighborhood. I took a few pictures and though my childhood home doesn’t look anything like what it did when we lived there, I’m thankful I took some pictures. This is where I spent the first eighteen years of my life…

Our little house was always kept very tidy and very clean. My parents always took great pride in keeping the landscaping perfect. My friends use to tease me that you could come to my house anytime and it would be perfect…and they were right! I was really heartbroken to see our little house in not so “perfect” condition. But now hearing that it’s been torn down, well….that’s even worse. Lot’s of memories in that little house. My dad converted the formal dining room into another bedroom so I had my own bedroom when I was a teenager. I was in heaven. Eventually, he converted the attached garage into a family room, laundry room and a half bath, making the house seem so much bigger. It wasn’t a big house, but it was one that held lots of memories. I’m sad to hear it is gone.

The reason the demolition of my old house and one’s around it, they are building bigger and better homes in the neighborhood. I guess all things change…at least we have the memories.