2450 Crestline Dr

Just a heads up, this is probably going to be an extremely boring blog.  You might want to turn back. 

So yesterday I stopped by my parents house and my mom asked Lauren to walk two doors down to let the neighbors dogs out.  Now that house is the residence of my moms boss, but it used to be ours.  Like true blooded Oakvillians we lived in several houses while I was growing up but never outside the border of Oakville. 3 of the 4 houses my parents have lived in are within 2 blocks of each other.  Right after high school we moved ALL THE WAY down Telegraph, off Christopher, behind Queen.  It was a great house, gigantic, in ground pool, 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, all the bells and whistles.  It only lasted about 5 years.  I left home, my brother grew up and wasn't always around.  The house began to feel gigantic to my parents, especially my mom (dude....still can't talk about it around my dad.  i don't think he wanted to move.  if you want to aggravate my mom just say "wasn't Coffee Springs the best").  Anyway, they moved.  They moved all the way back down Telegraph, two doors up from the house I lived in from the age of 6 to 18.  I never lived in the house they currently own.  I guess it was nice though.  They were back in the hood.  All the same neighbors, same Telegraph noise, the same "slow down!" as people fly up and down the street. This time they moved right next door to the Linnemans.  This was probably the best part of the move.  They're more like family than neighbors.  I started babysitting for them when I was 12.  I think I basically lived at their house for a huge majority of my teenage years.  They have 3 kids who became more like my little brothers and sister.  My Lauren Nichole is actually named after their Lauren Nicole.  The mom....Debbie is Ava's Godmother.  We're tight...  (see this blog isn't making much sense, maybe i should start over?  nah...to much work).  Anyway where was I going with this?  So they moved back.  Now the strange thing is when you go in the backyard and look to your right you're staring into our old backyard.  It doesn't really look the same.  The pool is still there, the shed, maybe a few of the trees.  This old house has seen 3 different owners since we've moved.  Our house backed up to Cliff Cave Library.  There's a subdivision behind the library now, but when I was a kid it was nothing but thick woods.  We had bike trails and forts and "indian burial grounds" back there in that shit.  It was THE shit.  The backyard is now overgrown, crappy grass, they even have a freaking chicken (gross).  When we lived there....manicured.  The grass was always cut, trimmed, edged.  The trees were perfectly placed.  The bushes, flowers....nothing ever over grown.  Doing yard work is what my parents do, and they're damn good at it.  (see where i get the obsession with the grass cutting?)  The inside of the house was the same.  Never a mess.  My dad HATES a mess.  I don't think we had a ton of money when I was really small but my parents always took care of what we had and eventually redid the entire house.  It was really nice.  Ok so back on track.  I have to walk down to this house to get Lauren and my mom says "I thought you'd like to go inside and see what it looks like".  Yeah...ok.  Now I've been in the yard since we'd left the house, but never inside.  It's so weird to walk up the driveway, look at all the little things you remember.  I went through the side gate.  Walked around in the yard for a minute (far away from the freaking chicken).  Hung out on the deck of the pool.  Same deck.  My uncle built it.  It's seen better days.  Made my way to the side door and went in.  Wow....really weird feeling.  I was standing in our breakfast room.  The floor was different, same shelves hung, same stove, same kitchen cabinets.  I opened the door to the garage, yup....same.  It started to get strange.  I stood in the living room and glanced around.  Kinda the same, but different to.  Until I turned around.  I looked over at the fireplace.  It looks identical to the way I remember it.  The same mantle, fire place screen.  It was beautiful.  And then...oh shit...was this going to get emotional?  I wasn't expecting this.  I went down the hall, second room on the left....my room.  Lump in throat I walked in.  Um this room was a freaking mess.  They have shit laying every where.  Not much connection, until I looked up at the ceiling fan (dumb right?).  That was my fan.  I remember when my dad installed it.  It was a big deal to have ceiling fans I guess.  I always thought it was ugly.  It was white with the gold scrolls outlining it.  Nevertheless it was a major memory trigger.  It was like my whole childhood existed in one big bubble.  And speaking of bubble....  I walked over to the corner of my room, moved a ton of crap and searched until there it was.  Green Apple HubbaBubba gum that I had gotten stuck in my carpet when I was 12.  Cue the tears.  OMGawd.  I balled like a baby.  That freaking gum was still there.  I was still there.  This was my room.  I wanted to rewind time so badly, just for a few minutes.  A rush of memories came back.  Standing in the backyard and my grandma telling me my dad was on the phone and I had a brother!, the scary laundry chute, the lemon yellow shag carpet that I had when we moved in, the smell of the cedar closet in the basement, my Raggedy Ann wallpaper, the gum in the carpet, Kim and I hanging out my bedroom window smoking (LOL), me almost giving Kim alcohol poisoning with the straight EverClear, the parties....parties were the best.  (and dad if you're reading this i didn't really have any parties...ok?), the time Traci and I set the woods on fire (its was small, and eventually contained). So weird to have gone back in there.  I wish I would have walked out of my room and out of the house.  I walked in my parents room, my little brothers room, downstairs.  It was all different.  The basement wasn't even recognizable.  Nothing was the same down there.  Walls were up that didn't exist, my dads bar was gone, the cedar closet was gone, a bathroom now existed.  And then it was just time to go.  This wasn't our house anymore.  Other people had been here to make changes, memories.  But my house....that tan and brown house with the manicured lawn and the loved that filled the inside....it's there.  It's right inside my head and I can go visit it anytime I want.  I lived the childhood that everyone should have.  The fantastic parents, the security, the friends next door, my grandparents across the road.  Dude...I had it.  I lived the childhood dream.  I lived the childhood dream....right there in the middle of Oakville, down Crestline, first house on the right.  2450
Just incase you didn't figure it out....that's a pic of the green gum in the carpet : )