Moving on.

Here's a keeper: The Comics preofficial name was
The Chuckleheads.  Very old picture.  Priceless.

For me, the last day that I lived on Woodview Drive was over a month ago, and I left it behind with as little ceremony as I could muster.  Now, far away from this home of mine, I'm confronted with the truth of things: Today is the last day the Crowley's will live in that house.

I was reading through my journal today, and I came across this thing I wrote after I returned from a trip to Mexico a while back.  It says:

When I walked through the front door of my house tonight--when I knew I was not going back out until morning--I felt something unique.  It is a feeling I've encountered before, but only here, only on Woodview Drive.  I felt home.  I smelled the scent of home; I witnessed the warm kitchen lights; heard the silence of my sleeping family.  A smile crept over my face.  For a few full seconds, my brain only produced a one word thought: home.  I love it here, in this house, in this town.


That, however, is a feeling that dwindles with each day that passes.  As college shadows home, and new friends wrestle with the old for a place in my heart, my sense of home is becoming foggy.  My hopes and dreams of childhood grow weak and will eventually collapse under the weight of reality.  My body grows, and my mind is burdened by complexities and memory.  Everything changes.  Everything.

This was me in...5th grade I believe.  

One day, this home will no longer be home.  The place where I laughed the hardest I will ever laugh, in the backyard with Michael, the place where we played backyard football, where we built our skatepark.  It will all be lost to memory.  Loss is both a sharp sting and a chronic illness.  It is the bane of life.  


I cannot help but feel sad tonight, because of this truth.  It is a nostalgic, understanding, "crying-while-smiling" kind of sad.  Goodnight. -Nick




Moving away from the place where four brothers grew up is such an emotional challenge for me, as it is for my family.  I remember the moment when we stuck the "For Sale" sign in the snowy ground this past winter, and the surreal feeling which accompanied this action.  Even then, I struggled to grasp the reality that, very soon, I would no longer be welcome here.

I cannot express enough the pride I have for the strength of my family which prospered during the years we resided in this old wooden box, nor can I articulate the appreciation I have for all the support I received there, through thick and thin.  For all the good qualities I might possess within me, I can only thank the friends I made, the lessons I learned, and the good times I experienced on Woodview Drive.  I bid you a fond fairwell, W151 N7514.

Found this one and I nearly lost it. The gang's all there.  Represents everything perfectly.  We had a good run, didn't we?