Dare to be YOU! Introduction to Brandlady.com Home Community Forum Blog Wellbeing Relationships Inspire Me! Spirit Home & Garden Arts, Crafts & Hobbies Professions & Careers How To Women in Business Women Past & Present Columnists Women in Controversy Your Story Travel Bug Women Informed Sign Brandlady's Guestbook You Can Never Go Home Again 17 Apr 2009 / Wise Women Linda Cacaci, T homas Wolfe had said that. It sounds sad. It is true and yet in a way it isn’t. It depends on what home you are talking about. When some people talk about home they are talking about not only their home but the whole neighborhood. You can still have your childhood home standing but the rest of the neighborhood might be different. That is my story. I grew up in Queens Village, New York, a quaint town in Queens. It used to be called the bedroom community. It was in one of the five boroughs, but it was almost Long Island, which were the suburbs. Our house was between two avenues Jamaica Avenue and Hillside Avenue. On one avenue there were stores and shops and it was the same at the other avenue. You had grocery stores and bakeries and banks. You had libraries, too. Then we had a boulevard - Francis Lewis Boulevard. It was a main thoroughfare. There you would find a smaller grocery store and a beauty shop. There was also a candy store where you could pick up the daily paper and a wonderful German deli. Only 2 blocks ago, the elementary school stood and another block away was the Catholic Church. We all had different traditions. My grandmother and I would go to the 12 Mmmm. If I close my eyes, I can smell them right now. The aroma was wonderful. o’clock mass on Sundays and on the way home we would pick up some things at the bakery to have with Sunday brunch. Our tradition was to have the crumb buns. My grandmother started Sunday dinner while we were eating brunch. We are Italian so pasta was the name of the game. The meat, beef, pork and meatballs, were browned for the sauce. This wonderful sauce simmered all afternoon, with the appetizing aromas wafting through the house. Mmmm. If I close my eyes, I can smell them right now. The aroma was wonderful. I would be off doing my homework. My mother would be straightening up the house. We were getting ready for the week ahead. Those are my precious memories of home. While I cannot In my heart I will always be able to go home again and isn’t that where it really counts? physically go back home, I can go back home in my mind. I can go back and smell the wonderful aroma of Sunday’s dinners, of the love we all shared. My mother has been gone for 38 years and my grandmother has been gone for 43 years, but if I close my eyes one more time, I can be right there in the picture, my family picture. In my heart I will always be able to go home again and isn’t that where it really counts?    Your nickname    Verification code (bbbrand862)    Your comment   Add your comment Linda Cacaci I am working on my 3rd novel, a romantic suspense More articles in Brand Lady, Wise Women Fifty Something Some rather strange things have been happening since the big Five 0 has taken control of my life. In the mornings when I awake I’ve noticed that one of my legs may not. Next came the, oh so subtle formation of jowls and the dimples above my knees that just won’t go away, no matter how many weighted, leg lifts I do. Read it Additional resources
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