country road take me home

I grew up in the wine country of Northern CA in a place called Healdsburg. This was and is a small town but now it has thrived and become a tourist trap for wine tasting, vineyard hopping, historic homes and fancy shops. I am getting ready to go back there for my Uncle David's funeral. He was my closest uncle in proximity to our home and in my life! He and his family lived right over one big rolling hill from us. They lived on a Dairy Ranch and we lived literally walking distance away on our ranch! His children, our cousins were our playmates and friends. I have had many adventures with them and I feel blessed to have that closeness because that was the only family that we had any kind of relationship with on my dad's side of the family (and he comes from a family of 8!) They were Catholic, had 7 children and so, they made good allies for a Mormon family of 10. Just putting myself back on 4785 Westside Road brings back a flood of memories. I was just reading to Jenna when the memories started rushing in. Sadly the book I was reading to her was "There's Something in my Attic." Doesn't sound like a very romantic book to bring on the trip down memory lane, right? Well, we had two attics and they were both FASCINATING to me as a child! One was on the second floor of our old house. You could only get there from the "pink" room or the room I shared with Leslie and Erika. There was a door that opened to it like a closet. When you stepped inside, and looked up, there was a typical trap door in the ceiling and that led to the second or "real" attic. But if you opened yet another door immediately ahead there was the attic we used to store things, that had belongings from past residents (the home was kept in the same family over years and years until us.) It had old rickety wood floors that were very dusty. It had exposed beams on the slanted roof. It had boxes and boxes of old shoes, clothes, costumes, Christmas ornaments, letters, pictures, supplies, nick knacks, hats hanging from nails, one hanging light bulb, and lots of dark corners! The wood floor didn't cover all the attic space so you could only walk so far and then you had to step only on floor joices (I never ventured that far but my sister did which resulted in a foot through the ceiling in our main floor hall!) This place gave me the creeps but it also intrigued me like scary things do to children! It was mysterious! The old clothing and shoes were glamorous in an old, antique way. The attic was cool, dark and musty. I was always afraid to step in and pull the string to turn the light bulb on. Then there was the attic that opened from the trap door in the ceiling. This was a place even more mysterious because we couldn't get up there and more importantly, we weren't allowed to go up there! All I new of that attic was what my oldest siblings told me about it because at one time they got to play up there. Well, one day when I was in Jr. high? my dad let me and my sisters Emily and Erika got to venture up there! It was basically one small area with boards put down as a floor and it was used by past residents as a play house for their children! There were little dishes and a table and chairs and a calendar on the wall. It was walled off partially from the rest of the attic space. It had a window too and that's all I remember! We brought a tin of figs and some water up there so we could "survive" and I can't remember what else we did or played! It was just fun to be somewhere that was completely new in your very own house! AND it had old stuff from some other time and some other children! I wish I could see it again...

When I go back for my uncle's funeral, I will pass my old house. I plan on stopping as usual and having a moment to stare and reflect and try to believe that I spent my entire childhood there! There are stories in each room. I like old things. I like other times and people. I am that girl who sat in the attic years ago with a racing heart! I can't wait to go back!