Scranton Ave

With my Dad's recent passing, my brother and I are now under contract to sell my parents Illinois home where we grew up. For many people, a childhood home is where they're at their most complete, surrounded by loved ones, with the artifacts of an idyllic past intact. For me now, every room preserves a frozen version of how our family once was, for better or worse. Now my brother and I have to choose what items we want from the house. With my brother living thousands of miles away, most of these things are mine now to do with as I wish, to display or discard, celebrate or finally exorcise. It may take time. Meanwhile, there's a slight pang at the loss of a place I once lived, I'll never again dial that number by heart to hear my parents' voices.

Many people who came thru the house asked whether it had been professionally staged, which is quite the testament to my Mom who had a passion for decorating. Mom would often carry a bag of fabric swatches (of the chair, sofa, etc.) so that if she was out and about she would have the fabric to compare to. My Dad was an avid gardener, he took great pride in personally building and maintaining the garden, he loved to spend all his free time toiling in the dirt. I just hope the buyers love and care for the home and the garden as much as my parents did.