Goodbye to my childhood home

Today we said goodbye to the only childhood home I ever knew (1973-2014) in bucolic Midland Park, New Jersey as my parents are moving out in the next week.

That little Cape Cod holds a host of memories for me, my wife/fiancee/girlfriend (FYI – all one in the same) and my weepy, nostalgic children. I left home 18 years ago and left behind memories that made me into the solid citizen I am today but I always knew I would be back to this humble abode often while my parents still lived there. To finally say goodbye today wasn’t easy and I can’t imagine the emotions my parents have bottled up inside having raised three children in this home.  

My kids have had numerous sleepovers at “Mimi and Pop’s” over the years (always better when it was without my wife and me) so this was obviously tough on them as well. I kid you not, the kids made us take over 100 photos of them in and around the house today as they just couldn’t let go. They were also consumed with the amazing smell the house has. Don’t ask, all I know is that they have clothes they brought with them that they insist they will never wash again.
          

 And you knew they were deeply affected when they had no issues hanging so closely together.

Yes, my son is honestly going to miss the stove (maybe we should start therapy for him now).

We took one last walk down the “path” near my parent’s house. Little back story here – this is where the kids went to smoke when we were young, where “makeout” sessions were all the rage on summer nights and where I may or may not have seen my first Playboy. It was creepy and exciting all at the same time. The ideal hangout for a young dude.
    

It may sound ridiculous, but so much of my younger years were spent collecting, splitting open, throwing and avoiding stepping barefoot on acorns. And I don’t know if I’ve seen one since I left home.
   

As the day wound down, I did my best to capture some final images that represented some of the more obscure memories I had from the grand old late 70′s and early 80′s. Like this railing around the front patio of the home. I used to kick field goals with a Nerf football from the street below and imagine this was the goalpost. This is also where I first discovered my fear of heights as all of the “double dares” in the world wouldn’t get me to walk across on the other side of the railing.
      

But I won’t bore you with all of my personal memories. Just know that I couldn’t have signed up for a better upbringing from two parents who taught me all about unconditional love, respect, self discipline and simply being a good person. I like to think I am a stellar husband having watched one for some many years. I cherish the late night talks I had with my Mom and her support when my supposed girlfriend dumped me in 5th grade. My parents never missed a game or even a practice and that kind of thing stays with you for an eternity.

I’m sorry Missy and Ali for forcing you to play hallway football and I’ll never forget our endless games of Clue, Careers and swimming in the Minervini’s pool. We became monstrous Rangers fans in this house and knew the wonders of an oscillating fan, Shop Rite iced tea and Air Supply. Good f’n times.    

I’ll miss the house and the town for sure, but I also look forward to having my parents that much closer to us now so we can build new memories together without hopping on Route 287.

Oh, I’ll also painfully miss the garden we put together a few years ago and hope the new owners will keep it going, especially the fantastic mass of Baptisia.        
 

Thank you Mick and John and goodbye 15 Oak Ave.

I was going to end there, but after I got home today, and went through some old boxes of memories my parents dumped on gave me, I found a few things I had to share with you all.

I knew from an early age I wanted to be a writer and damn did I have a flair for the dramatic and the classic cliffhanger.    

To this day, I am not a huge fan of the rhododendron and it is good to know that my disdain started at a young age. Check out my palpable lack of enthusiasm in the photo below.
 

And finally, I want to give my 7th grade teacher a big “F you” for discounting my leaf report grade so heavily based on one friggin word.
 

Funny stuff.