Home is Where You’re Heart is
Just as I thought all the destruction was over, it struck again. October 29th I watched my childhood drowned ripping apart the only place I called home. 424 Euclid Avenue was not your average house… well any house with eight kids living in it isn’t exactly average. My house was always full of noise and nonsense of all kinds. Although it was rambunctious and full of people it was a safe haven, my favorite place in the world. The things I would do to lie out on top of my roof and look at the stars one more time.
As I watched the tall construction worker step into that bright yellow bulldozer my stomach turned into a great big knot, as tears rolled down my face. Watching my childhood memories get ripped up piece by piece in front of my whole family made me feel as though my childhood was stolen from me and turned into a pile of rubble. Memories disappearing into thin air as some random man, I’ve never met before, destroyed my beautiful home. The one place I have called home since the day I was brought home from the hospital after being born, the one place I knew like the back of my hand. It was the one place I could just truly be myself and no one could judge me, free to be me.
From the day I was born to the time I was a freshman in high school, I lived at 424 Euclid Avenue. That is where my heart belongs. From walking for the first time to learning how to ride a bike to crazy brawls with my siblings, my house was there with me through it all. Always providing the shelter my family and I needed, my house was part of our family. It was just as important as one of my brothers or sisters.
Even though my house had always looked as though it was flooded or a hurricane had hit it, it was still beautiful to me and I loved everything about it. Clothes seemed to spill into every room. The laundry room constantly overflowing, flooding my hallways, bedrooms, bathrooms, living rooms, and even the kitchen. But the way my house was decorated and the vibe it portrayed, it was a very safe, loving environment. Hurricane Sandy took that all away from me. It destroyed the one place that actually had a meaning to me, the place that raised me. Making my house unlivable was the worst possible thing that could have happened to me.
The thought of that bulldozer hitting against my lovely home, shattering the windows, tearing down the walls eats me alive. It is like a nightmare that I keep reliving over and over again. Moving around Manasquan and living in five different houses really makes you realize how much your first real home means to you. It kills me that I cannot live at 424 Euclid Avenue right now. When I pass by that empty lot memories begin to fly into my head and always brings tears to my eyes. The stress my family has to go through because of it doesn’t seem fair, but we always find a way. The day my new house is built and is ready to be lived in will be the sunniest and the happiest day in my life. Until then, I will keep dreaming for that to become reality.
- sharon and bill kitley
- Tara Robinson
- Dan & kathy Flynn
Organizer and beneficiary
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