I grew up in two homes. Up until 11 years old I lived in one house than due to unfortunate circumstances I had to move to another house which I spent my teenage years and part adulthood. I have a lot of good and bad memories in that house. I studied for a lot of tests in my lavender room. I got ready for a lot of fun nights in that room. I also had a lot of tears in that room. Great unforgettable phone conversations, and again lots of tears and some laughter. Now my Dad is gone a month today (no 31st in April) and my brother has been told the new people want the house. No matter how long I haven’t lived there it will always be known as 35 or my Dad’s place. My brother said it was bitter sweet and in a way maybe he is right.I hope a nice family moves in and cooks great meals, has a lot of laughter, and fixes it up so it is really their house. It has not been my house in a very long time. Dad’s spirit will always be around that house. Even though the house and my Dad are gone . No one can take my memories. Those are not for sale. Have you ever moved away? Do your parents still live in your childhood home? How would you feel if you had to sell it? You would walk through that house and replay all the memories in your head. You would look at it differently. You would shed tears and shut the lights and walk out but not without stopping turning around and saying one last goodbye to your childhood. Now onto the next life lesson