Brahmani Velagapudi Week #16: Home


A pale beige building, a front yard filled with plants, a bike parked next to the garage, and the second-floor window open. My old house was less of a house and more of a memory cache. 

In freshman year of High School my family and I moved from San Ramon to Fremont, leaving behind my childhood home. Recently, my dad sold our old old house and until it was taken away from us I hadn't realized how much I took it for granted. 

Before it was sold my mom and I went to look at the house and it felt so wrong to see the house empty of all the stuff that used to fill it before. All of my family's random and sometimes useless belongings that somehow made the house feel like ours. We walked to the pantry door where my brother and I used to mark our heights every year. I couldn't stop crying after I realized that the markings of our growth had been thoughtlessly painted over. All that was left was a faint blue undertone where the blue marker we marked out heights with one year, when we couldn't find a pencil, was. 

The entire house, as I walked through it, carried memories of us the way we carried memories of our lives there. Almost like the house was a living, breathing thing. Every corner I turned I remembered something else, from the scratch on the wall where my brother hit a bat against to the back of my closet where I had written all my "secrets" in invisible ink. 

I realized that this house, that I knew every nook and fault of, would no longer be ours, but still sometimes as we drive past our street I still think "home." 

Comments

  1. Hi Brahmani! This blog is a very heartfelt one and it seems like that house meant a great deal to you. It is hard to let go of memories and people, especially those you grew up with, because it shapes a huge part of your life and makes you the person you are today. I went through a similar experience in the 4th grade, when I moved from Cupertino to Fremont. I was younger than you and we only owned an apartment there so we couldn’t personalize it entirely, but I felt a hole in my heart knowing that I was leaving everything that had been a part of my life for so long- my friends, my school, my neighbors. For me, more than the house, it was the people that I dreaded leaving behind. However, it helped to carry objects with me to Fremont that reminded me of all these people. I keep all the birthday cards or going away cards that anyone from Cupertino has ever made for me, in order to carry a little piece of them with me. I also have a bouncy ball that I bought in the second grade, one with which I would play four square with my friends every weekend at the park. Another item acting as a memory is my scooter, which I would ride with all my neighbors every day after school. Although I had to leave this life behind, I will always be reminded of it through tokens from those days, something I will always be grateful for.

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  2. Hi Brahmani. Your blog was very heartfelt, and it made me think of when I moved to my new house a while ago. It felt like the end of an era; in the new house, I wouldn’t have any memories floating around in the walls. The new house seemed like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with my new memories. However, looking back, I can’t imagine my life without the move. Going back to your article, I can tell that having memories close by is important to you and that even though your life did change, you fondly remember everything, as nostalgic as it all may be. I think your blog was extremely personal, and I’m glad you were able to share it with us, as the emotions that come with moving to a new place are complicated and bittersweet.

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  3. Hey Brahmani, this truly was a heartfelt blog. When I was reading this, I lowkey started to tear up haha. When you described the marks checking you and your brother's height getting covered up. It made me remember about the times my teammates and I would do that. Talking about you moving, and when you saw your house empty, and walking through all your hallways, it really hit something. I can remember the time where I moved. I was pretty young then, but I can still remember the apartment I lived in. However, now that I am in the new house, I can't imagine this house not being home.

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