Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve moved, but the memories forever encapsulated within your beige walls decorated with picture frames are vivid as ever.

A few weeks ago, when I was writing my memoir for my graduation requirement, I was forced to really consider my past, which means I thought about you – a lot. I sat in front of my computer with my blank Word document, playing back all the memories from the moment I stepped in at three years old to when I moved out at five years old.

It may seem like two years is not much time to develop an attachment to a house, but my attachment to you is as strong as it is to my house now, which I’ve been living in for 13 years.

I want to say thank you for being the best place to grow up.

You are the perfect middle-class house without the sub-conscious bubble of wealth. I never felt the subtle judgement that I face in my neighborhood of large houses and Mercedes cars now. From the old couple across the street who would put my bike away for me when I left it out, to my best friend across my backyard who I played with every day, my neighbors created a community where I felt safe.

You have the ideal backyard, open to the imagination of my mind and my best friend’s. From playing spy to chef to hide and seek, you were our stage for us to create whatever scene we wanted. There was a table sandbox where I would bring mud from my mom’s garden and pretend I was baking a chocolate cake. And I’ll always cherish the spring and summer BBQs with my dad’s co-workers. There was a sense of family between the junk food and bad jokes, protected by your surrounding pine trees.

Your bi-level basement may seem like a strange concept to some people now but it was made for my toddler legs. I’ll always remember running back and forth with my Bratz dolls or trying to walk up the five stairs with my mom’s heels on my feet. I’ll always remember my big whiteboard in the basement I used when I would pretend I’m a teacher, and especially the moment when my parents came home with my baby brother and I didn’t like the name they picked, so I wrote the ones I liked on my board and made my parents listen to my justification for each one.

Long story short, you are so very important to so many of my childhood memories. Though I moved out so long ago, you will always be home to me, and I only hope that the family that moved in after I moved out created as many amazing memories of their own.

Yours truly.