1512 Pocahontas Trail
What type of person are you? Where are you from? People look at me and see a light skinned girl with curly hair that is sassy but with class. Growing up, I was surrounded by family in a place on the side of the road in Grove on Pocahontas trail. The house wasn’t mine but I always felt at home there. My grandfather’s house has been around for many years and this was the place my family came together. The house smelled like my grandmother’s perfume, which reminded me of how most older women smelled. The scent smelled like lavender that felt soothing. The house had hardwood floors and the outside had purple shutters and the rest was white. My grandfather’s house holds some of my favorite memories from my childhood.
Regardless if it was breakfast, lunch or dinner we always ate together as a whole. We prayed before we ate and there were separate places for the kids and adults to eat. The grown-ups table was a long wooden table with my grandfather at one end and my grandmother at the other end. The sitting arrangement showed how it was there household. On the other hand, the kids table was round and made all of us feel equal unlike the grown-ups table because my grandparents did the prayer and the toast to drink. Eating at the kids table never bothered me because my cousins and I always made jokes and had a lot of fun together, but I was always curious what the adults were talking about. The two different tables taught me that not everything was meant for kids. I have always been close with my family and would rely on them before a friend. This connection I built with my family lead me to treat the friends I made throughout my life the same way. Eating together not only unified us a family, but as a group of trustworthy friends.
My grandfather had a large house, but even so, my cousins and I always slept in the living room together. The living room was huge with three different couches and huge old flat screen tv. One couch was a recliner that was connected to another recliner for my grandparents. The other two was tan and long that was on the back of both sides of the wall with a glass coffee table in the middle. We stayed up late and played games, made blanket forts, and spent the nights in our little kingdom. I felt like a rebel staying up late because my parents didn’t let me, but grandpa let us do whatever we pleased and that made me happy that he trusted us. I valued and enjoyed getting close with my family and the love we all shared with one another. No one would ever understand you like your family would. The time spent with them helped me learn how to bond and make deep connections, which led me to be comfortable enough to express myself for who I was. I have always been an open-minded person, outgoing and adventurous. Being so close with my cousins as a child helped me to recognize what kind of friends I wanted to have and what kind of friend I wanted to be.
One of my favorite places in my grandfather’s house was the garden. It was always very tranquil, and it was a place I could go to unwind any time of the year. My cousins and I would often play in the garden and when we weren’t playing, we were picking fruits and vegetables to cook and eat together. The vines wrapped around the wooden rooftop like a snake and the vegetables were planted for miles. The plants and vegetables reminded me how life works. Plants need to be nurtured and taken care of and when they aren’t weeds choke them and kill them. My grandfather was very sick and all his happiness he brought into the world started to slowly disappear like a leaf loses its color. People grow up and sooner or later they die. It showed me how to appreciate how precious life was and that I needed to live it to its fullest extent.
One day something is there and one day it can be gone like a blink of an eye. My story relates a lot to “Why Place Matters” in this story it talks about a place that was a setting turn into a space that only has a meaning to you. Even if it’s here or not you can walk through a place blindfolded and tell someone where everything is. In my grandfather’s home there is a living room with a big old fashion flat screen with the kitchen right beside it. Every room was very large and gives me that comfy feeling. The kitchen has a long brown square table with plenty of seats and spiral steps up to the top floor. A place needs to have significance but when it is gone and is just a space that can become anybody’s place.
When my grandfather died, the house started to decay. Slowly, we stopped having big family get-togethers and over time they became a rare occurrence. The place that was once home to my childhood memories is now just an empty space that I can only recall in my mind. My family has drifted apart in many ways, but once a year when I see them again it all goes back like it never ended.1512 Pocahontas trail hold my precious moments that taught me the importance of trust and reliance, but most of all, love. This house might just be 1512 Pocahontas trail to everyone else, but to me it was the place where I was shaped into the person I am today.
( (Mcclay, 2014)pg. 232,235,236