Home sweet home.

 33708 Washington Dr. - Forever Home

This morning my parents drove out of the driveway for their last time as they begin the newest leg of this journey we call life.  Over four decades ago my grand parents purchased this house, nestled in the quiet community of Yucaipa, CA.  It's funny to think about how attached we can become to a house; how it becomes a home.  How, in some ways, the home itself becomes a member of the family.  It's a subtle evolution, unfolding over the years. It begins with simple acts of daily life, then the acts add up and become a sum of memories that we draw upon for the remainder of our days.

My uncles and mom lived there when they graduated from high school, as did I.  We all walked to Valley Elementary and Yucaipa Jr. High from this home.  We all had sleepovers and parties there.  In the late 80's my parents and I moved in to live with my grandmother in a mutually beneficial living situation that helped shape who I am as a person.  Living in a multi-generational household is a wonderful experience, albeit challenging at times.  My grandmother would sit in the living room and watch me dance.  She sat with me at the kitchen table while I did my homework.  The holidays came and went, with them visits from the Brennans, Aunt Mildred and Uncle Jim, various family and family friends; it was never quiet and there was always enough food to feed three armies, but the foundation of family was solidified in that kitchen.  I'd spend the night at the grandparents only to be awakened at 5 am by grandpa to go to breakfast, or even earlier by Uncle Jamie to go body surfing at Doheny Beach.

 Numerous memories and life changing experiences took place in this beautiful backyard:  My parents were married here.  My wedding reception was here.  Mom and John has a fabulous party here to celebrate their marriage.  The neighbors and family spent many a 4th of July sitting on the slope in the yard watching the fireworks show from the Yucaipa Regional Park.  I played Frisbee with my Uncle Jamie here.  I got rides on the family ATV here with Uncle Jon at the helm.  We played fetch with Scooter and Peaches and Bosco and Maggie and Copper.  Thanksgiving dinners on the deck.  Aunt Mildred and Uncle Jim's 50th anniversary party.  I remember the days of looking out over the valley to the sight of endless orange groves, their smudge pots glistening in the sharpness of a winter night.  And later the smell of the blossoms from those groves that signaled the coming of spring.

             

Countless hours spent swimming with Amber; spraying Sun-In in our hair and laying on the deck to get tan.  Night swimming with Becky after we spent the day choreographing to musicals in the living room. Independence Day brought grandpa setting up fireworks down by the pool, then getting chased around the deck by them when they went spinning off into oblivion.   Summer afternoons lounging, my daughter learning to swim, the dogs taking a lap; hours upon hours of my childhood spent swimming until exhaustion all the while gaining a ravenous appetite that could only be quenched by peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (the most perfect of post-pool meals).  

Learning how to drive in the big, gold tuna boat that was my grandmother's Ford Maverick.  Turning 16 and getting one the best presents I've ever received to this day, the beautiful emerald green VW Bug that mom parked behind my bedroom window so I'd be surprised.  Trick or treating to the Martins and Rodgers and DeJagers houses.  The pre-Halloween ritual of setting up  dozens of ceramic pumpkins in the front window to illuminate the way for the neighborhood kids.  Getting the mail became a chore every fall as you'd walk across the grass that was filled with pecans, bruising your feet along the way.  Then the gang of black birds would descend upon the yard, gathering up their little shelled bombs, dropping them onto the driveway in the hopes of cracking them open for a treat.  Springtimes were spent watching my dad work on cars in the garage as he listened to Vin Scully on the radio, running lunch out to him like a dutiful daughter. 

Bringing Gianna home from the hospital, placing her in the arms of our family matriarch is one of the greatest memories I will ever have.  The following six years filled with her laughter and tears and directions aimed at Papa as she taught him how to dance.  My girl dragging a chair up to the kitchen sink, standing on tip toe to be tall enough to help her Dede make a cake.  Year after year, life after life filled the rooms of our house as our hearts were filled by the comfort of home.  

In this home I learned from the greats how to be a woman, a wife, a mother, sharing and cherishing all that life sends our way; weddings, births, deaths and everything in between.  The memories are abundant and I embrace each and every one because this house, this home helped define who I am.  It was the rock, the one constant throughout all of life's ups and downs.  And although it is no longer the address of OUR family, it will continue to be a foundation, the heart and soul of family; the frame that will encompass the memories for the folks who move in this weekend.  May it give them as much security and pleasure as it has given us these last 42 years.  It may be made of wood and plaster and stucco but 33708 Washington Dr. lives and breathes as plainly as any of the other loves of my life.  

Thanks for the memories. On that note, Dede and Papa, hurry up and get here to we can start making a new volume of memories.