This is the first time I ever set foot in Mom’s childhood home. I saw a few pictures from that time, of course, but actually walking inside these corridors, and seeing the whole thing in 3D, feels like stepping inside a dream. Or an old movie you used to watch as a kid. It’s tough to quite realize it’s real.

There’s no doubt it’s an older house, but it’s been maintained to perfection. Not a speck of dust that I can see, not even a cobweb. It’s also insanely big. Maybe not as big as the Uptown apartment where we lived when I was a kid, but surely you could put our current house in it two or three times.

The layout is easy to grasp though, so Gram only has to give me indications once for me to find the room she says I can sleep in. So I climb the old, creaky stairs, exhausted with a long, but awesome day.

I swear the upstairs hall is bigger than Cléo and Cyril’s bedrooms. Though I guess that’s the type of space you need if you’re going to have a huge aquarium. It’s also just enough space to hang Gram and my Grandmas’ artwork, not to mention the pictures.

I open the door to the bedroom Gram indicated – and it takes my breath away. It’s a teenager’s bedroom, and I know right away which teenager.

Mom’s tastes and interests have changed quite a bit over the years, but not past the point of being unrecognizable. And, she passed the wicker love on to me.

Being at the core of my mom’s childhood and teenae years, in this place that showcases her and who she is and used to be, makes me feel a special type of way. And I’m sleeping in her bed tonight, too!

Of course Mom would have a picture of herself above her desk. I’m surprised I see none of dad – but I figure she took all of these with her when she moved. I know I’ve seen quite a few of them in old albums.