Earlier this afternoon I overheard my mother talking to people outside. When I peeked out, I saw her talking to 3 middle-aged strangers (siblings I found out later- 2 sisters and 1 brother). It turned out that they had lived in our house decades ago (1953-1981), way before we moved here in 1992. They decided to come back and check out their childhood town.
First thing the siblings did was visit Jake and Joan. They are the old couple that reside in the house next door to us, otherwise known as the piano house (because of its black and white striped pattern). Jake and Joan are the friendliest people ever. They used to give us a whole bunch of fruits and vegetables they had planted in the yard. Every Christmas, they will ring our doorbell and give us little gifts. I remember going to them asking about ideas for my science fair project (it was due the next day). Jake invited me over on the day I started high school so that he can take a Polaroid and hang it next to the pictures of his children and grandchild. I see them less and less now. Jake is moving slower and Joan is looking more and more fragile. But nonetheless they are still just as loving and sweet to everyone. Just last week I saw them taking a walk while holding hands.
My mom came home just as the siblings were standing outside and observing our house. She ended up giving them a tour in the house and backyard. The brother found little handprints he left in the cement when he was a kid. The porch was built by their father. The doors of the key shelf inside the house was also built by their father (both of their parents already passed away). They were all mixed up with nostalgia and excitement. It was pretty amazing seeing this. When they left, they said "Thank you so much, this meant a lot to us. I hope your family are just as happy as we were when we lived here."
It makes me kind of sad. I guess the thought of someone else living here before me never really occurred. We moved in here when I was 5 and my room has always been known as my property. I thought it was funny that our family also have two daughters and one son, like theirs. It's cute imagining a jumble of little legs running down the stairs or kids chatting on the stoop with cups of lemonade in their hands. I wonder if they also had a pet.
Anyway, a house isn't really a house unless it's made a home. Just like how happiness isn't real unless shared. Today made me really thankful of all the good people I know. And I'm glad to have my friends and family to share my life with.
