I peered out from my second floor balcony window, nestled on top of the small roof that sheltered the veranda below. The neighborhood was like any other in this small town with manicured lawns and perfect little homes. However this was a new home for me. At twelve, my parents and I had just sold our family farm and we were recently abandoned by one older sibling brother as he set out to search for his future. In the beginning, I shared a room in the basement with a Foster sister, three years my senior. My older brother of sixteen had his own room in our basement. Later my Father would renovate the attic with access to a stairway leading to my parents bedroom conceiled by closet doors. I used to imagine I was Anne Frank in my secret annex. For now I was excited and scared for in just a few months I would begin JUNIOR HIGH! My home provided a much needed place of safety.
The front entrance was a room in itself with a small window and a large walk in closet. It was situated as an easy access from outside to our living room. This was the hub of activity for the house. Adjacent to it was our one and only bathrooom. The living room was a comfortable place to read, relax and watch t.v. The shag rug, a warm brown with gold flecks coordinated in color with the mahogany boards and burgundy trim, a warm welcome to any home in the 19 70’s.
Our kitchen was the final room before the back door leading ouside. The far wall held all that was needed: fridge, stove and cupboards. I still remember the floral wallpaper on the three remaining walls. I remember this home fondly. What I will remember the most is my annex bedroom. The room ran the length of the entire house with a build in closet on one end and a front facing window. The slanted roof provided a wonderful place for hanging favorite movie star posters like Lee Majors, Farrah Fawcette, Shawn Kassidy and Lyndsay Wagner. My double bed and stereo system were placed on opposite walls and a night stand provided a place for my glasses at night.
This room was private and during my teenage years provided a place of solitude and entertainment for my four Junior High girlfriends. Here we sang ABBA songs by hairbrush, dreamed of boyfriends, kissing, marriage and our prince charming. We also dreamed of the children we would have. As I reminisce, I remember that two out of the five of us would go on to have those children. Three of us would be diagnosed with infertility.
The house remains standing to this day, it’s torn wallpaper in the kitchen remains, the newly renovated living room bears little resemblence to it’s former beauty and the basement rooms are empty shells of what was. Upstairs in the little annex, spiders and cobwebs have taken over the room’s occupancy. Up in the quietest corner, if you brush aside the dust, there you may find the dreams of twelve year old girl.