A Book Shelf

It is silly that one simple thing like a shelf can bring so many memories.

I say and mildly brag that I have lived in several countries. Although this is technically true, it never felt that way. I don’t remember Canada or Miami so my life as I know it really only begins in Bogotá and the 777 apartment building. I don’t remember where I lived while the 777 was being built but I remember going with mom to see the construction. I always wanted to wear the white construction hat cause it was the one the architects and the engineers wear. I remember the day we moved in. My sister (she must have been around 2 years old at the time) had a fever and my mom was pregnant with my brother so mom was about to go nuts so I went out with a friend of the family Mario Ochoa, (big mistake of my parents cause I ended up bringing home a rabbit).

I was 4. We lived there for 8 years. My sister and I shared a room and we had what I always called Princesses beds. Our room at had bears that my mom had stenciled it was pastel orange. When we became “grown ups” we made my mom takes us to a home depo store so we could re-paint and get like a paper wall (but no bears cause those are for kids) we picked a pink and a (yes you guessed it) green for the wall, and a bear wall paper. We had a costume chest that we loved; we had 2 desks and 2 bookshelves. My brother’s room was baby blue for the longest time then we painted it white and my mom painted a mural of a jungle that we got helped on. I panted a toucan and the waterfall.

Where we spent most of our time was the everyday living room. At that point in time my mom still had the idea that there should be an elegant dining room and living room and an everyday one. The biggest item in the room was the bookshelf, not even the books just the shelf.

When we moved to the farm and then to Panama it stayed in deposit and it has been 8 years since I don’t see it. Recently my mom brought it back out and this flood of memories filled me up: my brother’s first step, my hatred towards my homework, the black and white computer, the vinyl disks.

My home felt like home again.