This afternoon I stood outside, on the opposite side of the road to my old home, and had a few tears. It wasn’t either of my old family homes at Gumdale or Wynnum where I spent my childhood; it was my home during my mid-twenties when I had returned to Australia with my darling little son, James. At that time I had been looking for my future – our future – but was unsure as to whether or not I had found it… and we moved on after a very happy year at Parker Street.

I had no idea that Parker Street was so close to my present local Hyperdome shopping mall – it had not been built when I lived there – and it came as quite a surprise to realise, after checking on Google Earth, that my old home was only around two kilometres farther on.  It was a bit “uphill and down-dale” (good exercise as I was cycling) and I hardly recognised any streets because the formerly new houses, which I had been accustomed to were now mature (in Australian terms) and set in established gardens.

A large poinciana tree, afire with vermilion red blooms, and not even a sapling when I lived there, now towers over my old house at number three. The front lawn has been dispensed with in favour of cement – for the trailer, car and caravan – and the car-port area is now built in; and a green fence acts as a mighty girdle to hem in the tree, the house and forms of transport all wedged in behind the high metal railings. In my day it was all open and grassed, and people could come and go at liberty. We could see the neighbours and they could see us… probably dancing… We had no money but we danced a lot.

It’s always funny going back to old homes – isn’t it? We move on and come back, perhaps to retrieve a forgotten memory of something that helped to form what we have become. I had to come home before it got dark (you know I get a little scared travelling on my own  in the dark!) but I shall go back soon and look for James’ old primary school; and I might have a few more tears when I remember the times I held his hand as I walked him to school… He will be getting married two days after my return to England in April.

I wonder if Chris will remember me? It seems that I have been away so long…