Oh

Oh, you can definitely go back, but it's going to hurt.

I was home for Christmas. Had a great holiday. I can honestly say that I love spending time with my family, and seeing old friends.

My Godfather/Uncle Andy - he died last month. I only now have one uncle left. What's up with this: When I was growing up, my grandparents were in their mid 80's and we didn't have a care in the world. We didn't think they were going to drop dead at any minute. It didn't seem like my folks did either, everyone was pretty happy. Both my parents now are 78, and every time my phone rings from their number, I think, "Is this THE CALL?" Seems like everything was so much more lighthearted in the 60's.

The neighborhood where my folks grew up is largely gone, thanks to a GM plant that razed it in the early 80's. Their house was in poor shape by that time - the neighborhood pretty much deserted, and beautiful brick duplexes were bought out for 3 grand. Sickening. There are a few houses (and bizarrely - one open restaurant) left in my grandparents old hood. This restaurant is where my sister, a close friend of our family and myself spent a very lazy (read BOOZY) afternoon. On a whim, I decided to scavenge what was left of my Aunt and Uncle's half standing house.

Bit of background, the house used to stand on the other side of I-94, but when the freeway was built, my Uncle's father (we called him Dzadza) had the house moved across the freeway to where the ruins stand today.

There were no back steps, and there was a boat (yes - and MILES from any water) in the backyard - overgrown with weeds. I hoisted my way up into the back porch and made my way into the kitchen. I remember this kitchen so well, and what a scream to see it today. A fire had ravaged the place, and anything worth taking was gone. I remember in the bathroom, my Aunt Anne had a furry leopard print rug and toilet seat cover, to match her leopard Faberge powder puff on the back of the toilet. I remember where the birdcage used to hang in the kitchen. I remember where the Christmas tree was in the living room. I remember my cousin Andrea had the best games in the world, and kept them on a particular shelf in her closet. Going back to that shelf - over 30 years later - was a bit depressing, but ultimately, I'm so glad I did it. How often do you literally get to step back in time?

I wanted a souvenir, so I tried liberating a light switch, one of those old push button ones, but I didn't have the proper tools, so decided to come back another time.

Over Christmas, I felt a little weird about mentioning it to Andrea. I mean, it was the house where she grew up, and it was her dad that just died, but I did mention it. I showed her some of the pictures I took, and told her I planned to go back, and I asked her if she was interested in joining me. I was shocked when she said yes, so my brother (who is often up for an adventure like this) and I, went back with Andrea the next day.

I went straight back to the basement, hoping I'd overlooked something, but disappointingly found nothing (except for those fucking scary basement steps with no backs, and the coal room. Did any of you guys have a coal room? Scariest damn place in the world.) Andrea didn't care to venture into the house, but she did go to the backyard and dug up a rose bush. I hope it takes. My brother opted to not do a lot of exploring, but did get that light switch for me, so that made me happy. I don't blame Andrea for not going in. Some things, especially in this case, are left best for memories. But I'm the kind of guy that needs to see. No matter how ugly, I want to see it, and if possible, to experience it. So, that's one of the things I did on my Christmas Vacation.