Family Memory (XXXIII): 6/14/71

A while ago, I wrote about the oldest thing I actually remember. Most of that is vague.

June 14, 1971 is vague as well. It’s really the second memory I have.

The memory itself is pretty simple–walking into the new Dietz house on Marquette St. in Davenport. We came in from the back, so into where the kitchen is and towards the basement.

I didn’t know those rooms at the time–all I remember was walking in and thinking how right in front of me it was 150% totally pitch black (that’s the stairs down to the basement). The only other part of the memory is I remember the house was basically empty.

So…thinking of that, a duality dawned on me. That’s the day I went up to Davenport and signed the sale papers as executor for my stepfather. The house was empty. The furniture that was left had gone on to the Habitat ReStore program.

I was the first of the family to walk in–to an empty house waiting to be filled with all the sounds and emotions you get from families with kids. Everyone grew, my parents divorced, they died, my stepfather died. My sister moved away. I moved away. She took her stuff, I took mine, and then the aftermath of death disposed of the rest.

And in the end, I went into an empty house and I was the last one out 43 years later, closing the door on that empty house. It isn’t often in life you get to have clear, discernable bookmarks for framing your life.