So I've narrowed down this little funk that I'm in.
Sadly, it's about 5 different things.
And here's one of those things...
If you're a follower of my blog, you may remember a couple posts I did about my childhood home. 104 West Main St. Here are the links to those posts:
It's MY House
My House...It's a Steal
And if you don't want to read those, that's totally cool. In a nutshell, my mom had a stroke 5 years ago, my stepdad was an asshat and foreclosed on the house they lived in and it was put up for sale.
About a month ago, I noticed the for sale sign was gone.
(Yes, I drive past the house on a semi-frequent basis)
A few weeks ago, I heard a rumor that a local cheese factory had purchased the house. You see, this cheese factory was right next door to the house. Well, not right next door...a parking lot separated them.
Can you see where this is going?
Yes, my fear was that the factory purchased the house to level it and make a larger parking lot.
This thought has been lingering in my head for a few weeks...and I got some pretty concrete answers on it this past week:
verb (used with object), razed, raz·ing.
1. to tear down; demolish; level to the ground
My biggest fear has come true. They're tearing it down.
My childhood home will be gone.
I'm sad. I'm pissed. I'm upset. I want to cry.
I can't do anything about this.
And here's the creepy part..Sartori (the cheese company) is actually one of my clients. Well, the HR person contacted me the other day for some insurance "stuff" she needed (a client that I rarely ever hear from, mind you). During our conversation, I decided to ask about the house. She only knew that they had purchased it and were planning on tearing it down in the near future.
I needed to do it...I asked if I could get into the house once more before the dozers get there.
I want to see it one last time.
And I want to take something.
Something that I can say "This came from my house, the house I spent the first 18 years of my life in".
She said she'd talk to the powers that be and let me know.
We haven't talked yet, but I'm hoping to hear from her soon...
And no, I have no idea what I would take. None. Just something. Anything. Anything that can give me one last lingering memory of my home. My childhood.