We made a decision to take a last minute Road Trip to New Orleans. We left for Mardi Gras weekend in hopes that we would be able to share with the girls a little bit of where Daniel and I are from and to spend some quality time with my best friend.
We packed everyone up and headed to my best friends home where she so kindly took us in for the weekend. On a scale of 1-10, the southern hospitality in NOLA is probably about a 15. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone is "ya brotha" or "ya sistah". The door is always open. It's just the mentality over there.
The very first thing we did above anything else was visit the home I grew up in. Course, this home is gone...it was taken by Katrina in 2005. It's just an empty lot now. Many nights Payton & Mischa ask me to tell them stories about my childhood days. I share with them about my cabbage patch dolls and how I used to make my own garage sales with my doll clothes on the front porch, how we turned my parents new garbage can into a swimming pool...yes we actually did this. How I poured a full box of detergent into the pool to have a bubble bath [I know, Mischa is taking after yours truly! I was quietly mischievous!]. I would tell them about the games we used to play "Colored Eggs", "Mother May I?", "Chase"...the list goes on.
When we pulled onto my street, I really did tear up. I didn't expect to. It was extremely emotional because I felt a sense of loss. It was really gone. It's been 5 years since I've been back. I knew it was gone, I watched most of it go away, but I had not seen the surrounding area in years. The trees are gone, another home was built and fenced in next to my parents lot where my neighbor Joan lived. Joan was like a grandmother to us. She did all the things grandmothers are supposed to do...and her house was gone too. She wasn't there either. Now don't get me wrong, this was not a surprise...it was simply a very sad affirmation of the horrible thing that happened.
I told Payton about this very tree she is standing on. It stood BIG and TALL in front of the house. It's where I had many picnics...where I stubbed my toe MANY times on the dang roots...She stood on it like Kate did on the Titanic.
The lots seems so tiny. I guess the grass grew over most of the pavement and the driveways. The old chain link fence still lies there in ruins. Even looking at the sidewalk gave me a sense of nostalgia.
I road my bike so many times down that sidewalk.
The street view. The little blue house across the way is still there. It is the Pak-Wrap mail center where my dad made many deliveries for his business. To the left used to be a mailbox where we mailed many letters and to the right [towards the stop sign], is the path I used to take to walk to my Elementary School.
This is the view from the opposite direction. Looks NOTHING like I remember it. Dumpster STILL there, houses still in ruins but on the verge of construction. I remember who lived in these remaining houses. I had probably been in each one of these houses at one time. In fact...about where the Port-o-Pot is...a HUGE doberman used to live behind a chain link fence. It chased me down and thus my fear for BIG dogs was born.
The tree directly in front of Payton was a HUGE Pecan Tree that stood behind my dad's office. Many a days we walked back there to pick pecans for homemade Pecan Pie! I also added them to my "Gum Gooey Mud Pies" or used them to aim at the neighborhood kids as we played.
Where Payton stands is the old driveway. It lead into the back yard and was the very first spot I parked my first car "Coco Puff". The house stood to the right of the driveway.
This is where my dad's home business stood. They converted the garage into an office.
Mrs. Borja's house still stands across the street. She was an older lady that lived there. Luckily she passed away before the storm. Many days my mom would go visit with her to keep her company. I have no idea who lives there now or if it's still under construction.
A few months ago I came across pictures of the house even before it was renovated. When Katrina came, my parents were ONE month from paying off the mortgage and just about done with the remodel of the house. The house was precious! They gutted it, expanded it, and completely made it into a new home. You'd never even know it was the same home. But, when I across these, I had a longing in my heart to remember everything as a child.
This is the BEFORE of the BEFORE: The paperwork I found calls the house a "Cottage" 900 sqft...no lie! You'll see just how different the lot looks. I was about 16 years old when my folks started renovating the house. This brought back dozens of memories.
Can you see the old garage? I can see my brother's manual pedal car in it and his Night Rider in front of the house. The old shed that kept us cool when we played in the backyard...the chain link fence that my mom ran into as she was backing out the van one day. The other driveway [to the left] is where my first cat "Julie" was born. It's also the same driveway my brothers played basketball on day in/day out.
Street view you can see my dad's red car. HA! The Exxon station that we walked to ALL the time for snacks [they were CHEAP back then]. We also had an annual Christmas Tree in front of the house too. It was awesome because it nested many birds that fell out and guess who took care of them???
And now for the back of the house. Small huh? This is the part of the house that was renovated first because we needed the space. Cottage was definitely the right word for this little thing! It was amazing that 5 people lived inside this house.
I'll have to find pictures of the house when it was renovated.
It was P R E C I O U S! ...to be continued
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