I went for a walk
Aug. 1st, 2004 09:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
woodfaceWell that fact in itself should be enough to have half of you gasping. I went down streets that I haven't been in years now and I realised something. It's not here anymore, that small hamlet I grew in is gone.
Most of the fields that were still in between the houses are just gone. Everything looks different, even the things that haven't changed. I passed by the house that used to be my grandparent's, I haven't been in that street since my grandmother moved. It's different now too, the people who bought it cut down the trees at the side. The front door has been moved to the right (it's horribly done too and just makes the whole facade ugly) and I don't know why it made me want to cry. My maternal grandfather would hate this. He'd hate this whole situation. He'd never have left his house but he died and my grandmother let her two sons convince her she couldn't stay there anymore. Now she lives a street further in a modern, cold house. I wonder how lonely she is now that we won't visit her anymore after she send a bailiff to our door accusing my mom and my other uncle of things that just weren't true.
So it really is gone, not just the places but also the people I used to see. I lived pretty much on the street in the summer. I was always on my bike going to places. Most of the times I'd end up at my grandparents to play cards with my grandfather. He's gone now, ten years since he died. He used to smell like the stove in the kitchen and the living room as he always sat next to them. Every day he would make a walk around town. He loved to watch the constructors, used to stop a different places and just watch the small changes. Sometimes I'd go with him, most of the times on my bike, riding ahead and then coming back.
I miss those summers, I miss being outside until the streetlights turned on. Crawling through the bars so I could spend time with Markies (a horse). I can still feel the grit on my hands and the small cuts in the tips of my fingers from the grass I used to pull. But it's all gone now. All those people, places and animals. I don't know those streets anymore and that's strange. It's as if for the first time, I have come to realise that my home is gone. And the world lying outside my frontdoor is not the same as the one I knew and grew up in. It's not the same as the one I want to live in.
Most of the fields that were still in between the houses are just gone. Everything looks different, even the things that haven't changed. I passed by the house that used to be my grandparent's, I haven't been in that street since my grandmother moved. It's different now too, the people who bought it cut down the trees at the side. The front door has been moved to the right (it's horribly done too and just makes the whole facade ugly) and I don't know why it made me want to cry. My maternal grandfather would hate this. He'd hate this whole situation. He'd never have left his house but he died and my grandmother let her two sons convince her she couldn't stay there anymore. Now she lives a street further in a modern, cold house. I wonder how lonely she is now that we won't visit her anymore after she send a bailiff to our door accusing my mom and my other uncle of things that just weren't true.
So it really is gone, not just the places but also the people I used to see. I lived pretty much on the street in the summer. I was always on my bike going to places. Most of the times I'd end up at my grandparents to play cards with my grandfather. He's gone now, ten years since he died. He used to smell like the stove in the kitchen and the living room as he always sat next to them. Every day he would make a walk around town. He loved to watch the constructors, used to stop a different places and just watch the small changes. Sometimes I'd go with him, most of the times on my bike, riding ahead and then coming back.
I miss those summers, I miss being outside until the streetlights turned on. Crawling through the bars so I could spend time with Markies (a horse). I can still feel the grit on my hands and the small cuts in the tips of my fingers from the grass I used to pull. But it's all gone now. All those people, places and animals. I don't know those streets anymore and that's strange. It's as if for the first time, I have come to realise that my home is gone. And the world lying outside my frontdoor is not the same as the one I knew and grew up in. It's not the same as the one I want to live in.
