My Childhood Home

This is where I grew up with my parents and my older sister.

A car is parked in the driveway.

Recent photo with many trees cut down; find on Zillow

Neighbors would come and go, but for about 18 years we stayed in this house during the weekday nights & mornings and long weekend days.

This house held our rituals:

  • Wednesday Top Ramen “noodle night,” Friday “pizza night,” Sunday bagel mornings with dad
  • Hindu ceremonies at the closet altar and at the backyard Shiva Lingam

In our front yard we had a small, non-fruiting pomegranate tree.

Our backyard was wild and grassy until my dad took it upon all of us to implement a regime of black landscaper fabric, pebbles, and a eucalyptus that overgrew its space.

A person holds a cat.

We usually had two cats, a dog, sometimes an aquarium of fish, hamsters, and other assorted pets that did not linger for long.

My sister and I shared a messy room, which we were to have tidied before mealtime.

My parents shared a dark-themed room, with a portrait of a sexualized woman straddling a dragon in an ornate frame at the head of the bed.

A third bedroom was occupied by my mother’s baby grand piano, that she practiced on often.

We were a conflicted family, quick to cry and argue.

Yet, with dinner-time rituals we congregated on the couch to appreciate a fundamental family bond.

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