A Walk Down Memory Lane

Have you ever noticed how strange it feels when you retrace the steps of the places you frequented as a child? The places where you grew up? I recently took a walk down memory lane.

It’s amazing how different places look when you’re an adult, versus the way these same places looked through the eyes of a child. Yesterday, while visiting family, we decided it would be fun to drive around and show the girls where I grew up. We’ve done this before, but it’s been many years. Plus, they’re older now, and have a deeper appreciation about seeing my past. They’re interested. They wanted to see where I grew up, and hear the stories that kept pouring out of me as we drove around. I love that they care.

The memories came flooding back.

The memories came flooding back.

Sitting in front of the house I lived in as a child, memories came back. Memories I didn’t even know I had. I could sit there, look at the house, the backyard, the houses my friends lived in, and remember so many different experiences I had as a child. Truth be told, I wanted to knock on the door, and beg the people to let me go upstairs to my childhood bedroom. I’m sure it’s different now, but I wanted to see the space. The space that was mine when I was a little girl. Since everyone I was with thought this was a terrible idea, I held back and didn’t do it. Plus, I don’t know if the people who live there would even let me in. I know it would have been a strange experience, but I was game.

“You will regret this,” everyone in the car said to me, “You want to remember things the way they were, not the way they are now.”

I truly don’t know the answer to this. Would I have regrets, if I went inside my old house, the home I adored? Would it have been a positive experience? I’ll never know, at least not on this visit.

Of course, everything changes. The woods that used to be behind our house, where I spent hours playing in each day, have been replaced. Once there stood trees, now there are more houses. The street looks smaller, the outside colors on all the homes have changed, and plants and gardens have been replaced or removed.

As I sat in the car, looking at the house, a house that now belongs to someone else, I could hear the voices of my parents, see my family sitting at the kitchen table together, hear our laughter. And while everything changes, somethings never will. The love I was showered with, blessed to have as a child, is still there, walking with me through life. And for that, I am truly grateful.

Find meaning each day,


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  1. Charlie Massler on December 23, 2015 at 9:49 am

    I have had the same feelings … thoughts about my childhood home outside St. Louis. Who knows, maybe I will act on them when I return for my 50th HS Reunion in 2016. I don’t think seeing and knowing the home today would erase the memories of childhood. It would just fulfill a yearning … bring a closure. Maybe?

    • Dara Kurtz on December 23, 2015 at 6:47 pm

      I don’t think it would erase out childhood memories, and it would fulfill a yearning. I have an idea, how about you do it, and let me know how it goes? What do you think about that?!