I miss my old home. The home where I grew up. Mom cooking in the kitchen. Dad constantly working in the garage. Grandma planting tomatoes in the backyard.

My father lost his job.The bills just kept on coming. Dad kept on refinancing, until all the equity of the house was gone. Foreclosure came. We had to move. .Years have passed.The memory of my old home saddens me, because, I was happy there. I miss coming home from school and smelling mom‘s cooking. Couldn’t wait for dad to come home, to tell him about school. Playing ball with my friends, until ,the street lights went on. That meant dinner was ready. There were no cell phones, no IPads plus no cable. Life was simpler, people were pleasantly nice. Last year, I passed the old house . I visualized my mother watering lawn.Only to see that It was torn down. Converted into condos. I sat there in my car, reminiscing the good old days. Tears flowing down my cheeks. If only those days were back. Even, for just a day. I know that could never be. My old home is now converted to concrete and brick. No more picked fence. No more neighbors sitting on their porch, reading the Daily news. Mom and dad have passed away, and now I’m alone.. Times have changed and nothing is the same. I remember I knew every phone number of everyone. Telephone numbers were embedded in my head.We had the yellow pages and a telephone book. Life is a circle of change. Babies are born, people pass away. .My home might be gone, but my memories live on.