I get nostalgic about the home I grew up in. Do you?
My family lived in a small suburban house on Long Island, an hour east of New York. My parents bought the house just as they started having kids and our neighborhood was full of families with small children. My brother and I grew up on a block with other kids on it.
Looking at the house now, my mood turns melancholic. I instantly realize the major changes time has wrought. Half of my family passed away in 1990-1991 and my sole remaining relative (my dad) is far away in Florida.
Childhood always affects us deeply. Growing up, I thought this house was the universe -- big and comfortable. So it was unexpected when I returned home from college and found it small and grimy. Of course the neighborhood hadn't changed; my perspective had. The grandeur I'd seen in my home vanished after I saw more of the world.
Do you remember your childhood home? What was it like? Big or small? Comfy? Full of life or quiet?