Come with me on a visit to my suburban Chicago childhood home and discover the unsettling disappearance of my bedroom.
“We walk through room upon room of fresh paint and updated designs … ‘They knocked out this wall,’ she points and explains. ‘We wanted to make the whole space bigger.’ That wall once divided the kitchen from my bedroom. Every morning I used to lay in my bed on the other side of that wall, listening to my mom’s early morning WMBI radio programs and dishwasher clatter.
Now the wall has disappeared and my bedroom evaporated entirely, replaced by functional upgrades and a redesigned floor plan. I lost the container that had been crammed full of my girlish years.
Gone. The inner sanctum of my childhood entirely dematerialized.”
Read more about the irreplaceable rooms of childhood … HERE.
I contributed to this post to the now-defunct site full of true stories about roots, identity and place. Find the rest over to You are Here Stories
