Dead Childhood home,
As a child spending all those weekends with my grandmother in your living room, eating junk food, watching movies she rented from “Jamie’s” are some of my most cherished memories. You witnessed that woman spoil me rotten! Let’s not forget all the Christmas mornings that you witnessed my family have! The living room was your heart, looking back on it. As a child, I saw you as a kingdom, I saw you as a glorious mansion, you, childhood home, were my safe haven, and for as happy as I was, for some reason, I felt like you were happy, too. I used to think there was so much love in that house that eventually, you would explode.
You knew that wasn’t the case, was it? Because behind all the family get togethers, behind all the weekends I spent with my grandparents before and after my family moved in, behind all the holidays and Christmas mornings, there were closed doors. There were secrets. Weren’t there? You were always clean cut for the most part, from the outside looking in, everything, everyone, our family that lived within you, appeared normal. It was when no one was around that the evil you helped mask, showed itself. I did learn to love within your walls, but I also learned to hate within your walls, also. You were such a wonderful front.
You hid physical and mental abuse, alcoholism, drug addiction, affairs, and childhood trauma that still haunts me to this day. You were one of the masks. One of the biggest masks and you disguised the reality of the situation well, didn’t you? Do you remember when my uncle would go on dope binges? He wouldn’t sleep for six to ten days at a time. He would go into the attic late at night, thinking someone was up there. I would panic; my heart would start to beat so fast because I knew there was an entrance to the attic in the closet in our bedroom. I would put my earphones on and listen to Metallica until I passed out. I didn’t know if I would make it to see the next morning. I know it wasn’t your fault. I don’t hate you. I wanted to leave you on so many occasions but couldn’t because I was too young and didn’t know how to survive on my own.
I went from being a happy kid to a teenager that had to protect my family and myself from the same uncle before I even graduated from high school. You saw it. You could do nothing about it. Were you ever a happy home? You witnessed me growing up, you witnessed me leaving, though at the time, to be honest, I didn’t know that I wouldn’t see you again for years. In September of 2024, I came to visit you one last time. I figured it was time so say goodbye. Up until that point, it had been over a decade since I saw you. At one time, you were vibrant. When I returned, you were empty. Abandoned. All the life you had, physically and metaphorically, was gone, and you were alone and empty. You went from being my happy home, to my broken home, and finally, to just a husk. A building. As I stood inside of you for the final time, I was able to imagine happier times and like seeing a glimpse of a ghost or mirage, they all washed away, and you and I were there for the last time, together, alone. I said my peace and cried. Inside of you, love died, “if only walls could speak.”
I love and hate you,
Cody.