I was less than 20 when I moved out of my parent’s place. Before that I’d moved from the upper floor, where everyone lived, down in the basement, probably when I was still in elementary. So I’ve been moving away from my parents for probably about two-thirds of my life now.

Still, I’ve used that address as my home address for the majority of my life. It would have been 3rd grade when we moved into that house. And now it has been sold. That link to my past, will cease to be.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. In recent years, I’ve always been fairly uncomfortable when I’ve been over there. Partially because of the renovations that had taken place, and partially because of the somewhat strained relationship I’ve had with my family.

Since I link this to my facebook, my grandmother will likely read it, and she’d rather I not go into too much detail about my relationship with my family. She sees that as airing dirty laundry.

On one hand, I can see her point; on the other hand, this is my place for catharsis. This is a place where I can put my thoughts into order and perhaps untangle some of the knots that formed inside my mind.

Without saying too much, I can say that the relationship is perceived differently by all parties involved, there is very little agreement regarding common structure. This is somewhat magnified by the fact that the personalities involved are all fairly strong.

As a stew, it doesn’t work, too much conflict in the flavors. Perhaps it works better if spread out more, and mixed with something to cleanse the palate. I suppose that’s where my brother-in-law comes in.