435 Capen Blvd.

Around this time last year I was selling my childhood home. The day before my Mommy passed was the last night I ever spent in my home. I couldn’t stand the emptiness and eerie silence. The warmth that once filled my home was replaced with an unfamiliar coldness.

When we first moved, my parents and I painted my room my favorite pink color, making it my own

I struggled deciding whether to keep or sell my home. The memories that live within the walls came to life as I walked past them for the last time. My decision came to down to finances. It became expensive paying for my house and its utilities, especially since I was no longer living there.

I visited my house everyday until the day it was sold. I continued to put the trash cans out (was in the process of removing everything from the house) and check the mail (until I updated my address). When I would put my key into the back door, I could hear my parents greeting me like they usually do when I eventually open the door. Expect this time, they weren’t there. I would walk in and out of each room in the house. Starting in the kitchen and ending upstairs in my room. I would spend lots of silent moments in my house alone. Basking in the memories.

If I couldn’t make it all the back to my new residence on the other side of town, I would stop home and use the restroom. It definitely was better than stopping at a random bathroom.

435 was the last thing “keeping” me in my hometown and once it was sold, I felt it was time to leave for good. So I did.