In almost every home I ever lived in I can remember my bedroom. The only place I could go to and escape an annoying younger sister and a sometimes bully of an older brother, it was my sanctuary.
I lived here with my grandparents on my dads side. I’m guessing I somewhere around 3 or 4-years old and have absolutely no memory of my bedroom here. I have no idea how long I was here or why I left but it does hold one of my earliest and favorite memories.
I loved my grandpa Charles. Every morning he would take a walk around the block before heading off to work. Looking at this picture now I can still remember, quite vividly, standing on the top step and jumping into his arms, thrilled that he allowed me to tag along. I remember walking beside him and holding his hand and thinking he must be the tallest man in the world. On the walk back, just a block from home, I would always beg for him to lift me up so I could look over the edge of the bridge and watch the rushing water. I loved watching the water but I loved walking with my grandpa most and this always added a few extra minutes to our time together.
I know my parents loved me in their way but grandpa Charles was the first person that really seemed to see me. Sadly he passed away when I was only five and it would be years before I ever felt like someone really saw and cared about me again. Those walks will always be a precious gift to me and probably the reason I enjoy walks so much.