There is always that place you remember as a child, that place memories were made, that place you learnt how to rollerblade, ride a bike, cook etc. That place that you felt safe and started your first years of life. For me, that place was 'Hanson Street'. Memories flood back of all the things that happened there, it is still fresh in the back of my mind - The stairway to our flat, Indoor laundry room with concrete walls, the blue door with 17 imprinted on it and the stench of an unexplainable smell gathered in the hallways - it's a smell which let you know 'Your home' - as strange as that sounds, it was welcoming, and indeed we became familiar instantly.
This was my first home, I grew up here. It was a small but reasonable, 2 bedroom flat, kitchen, bathroom, living-room and balcony area - the wallpaper had a flowery design to it - Creamy Colored almost with a darker shade for the carpet. It had a small hallway which connected all the rooms - As you entered you were greeted with a wall on your right with hooks you could hang your jackets / bags and below was a shoe rack which was always piled up with our shoes, cousins shoes and neighbors shoes. Ha! Indeed our house was open to everyone even the most unexpected guests.
I was the first born - so indeed I remember being spoilt. My parents worked hard, (and still do) to make a living for us. This place was my sanctuary, I felt safe there. The homey feeling knowing there was no other place like it. My parents installed in us the importance of school, I loved literature and art. I was given a wooden desk to work on and let my imagination explore, I remember being so excited to get my own desk - I completed all my homework on there and drew pictures of things I loved, family, flowers and all things colorful - Oh the joys of being a child.
It was in this place my father taught me how to draw, he taught me how to write in Italic, draw 'Block-Letters', design certain pictures and write my name- he was quite the uncover artist. Me and my brother endured long afternoons learning how to write our names and we often cried because he wanted us to perfect writing that and learning the Samoan Alphabet at the same time. It was a grueling experience, but am thankful I went through that because that's where my love of Art developed.
I remember having Samoan neighbors below us - The Brown family. We connected instantly and became best of friends. We practically spent most holidays together and we lived at each others houses for the years we resided there - I loved it! I was best friends with the oldest girl and my brother was best friends with the younger brother - so it worked out fine. They also had this cousin who was mentally challenged I shall say discreetly - but we all learnt to cope with him - that's where I learnt that there were different / special people in the world with unexplainable illness that we must also learn to love.
This is also the place, I met my Grandparents from Samoa for the first time. It was a overwhelming experience, my parents brought them over for a couple of weeks and I remember them feeling so out of place, coming from hot tropical weather to the coldness of Wellington, NZ - it sure would've scared anyone new. Ha! The instant connection I felt when they arrived - the love which instantly showed in my smile - these were my mothers parents. They were old and frail, but very strong indeed. My grandpa had arthritis in his left hand so that was new to me. He enjoyed walking - me and my cousins walked him round the block every time we finished school - I would hold his hand and slowly walk round the block with him. He loved it. Thankful I got to meet him in person before he passed on - I love you Grandpa Pone. #RIP. #Tears.
We walked everywhere when we lived at this place. My parents didn't know how to drive then so my dad would walk us to and from school, it was quite a walk but he said it was good for us. Ha! (Wish I never learnt how to drive sometimes) #laughing. #WeightGain. He would pack our lunches, and dressed us warm and walked us every single day - one of us in each hand. *I love him so much* I remember me being a crybaby - literally, at the age of 9 I didn't want him to leave me at school, I told him to stay with me all the time. It got to the point where he had to bride me with Chocolates to make to stay and said if I was good, i'll get some more when I got home - I eventually got over this phase but it did take ages - so now I'm going through it with my little 2 year old - Isis, Karma at its finest. #Laughing.
We lived at Hanson Street for 12years, then moved to another memorable place: Daniell Street, which indeed has memories of it's own. Haha. I will always remember Hanson Street as being the one place where I felt as ease. As young as I was, I loved that place. I know life would have so very different if I stayed there longer - in a good way I suppose. But we learn to accept things we cannot change and love the life we live now.
I saw first - hand what my parents sacrificed for me and my brother and for that I am eternally grateful, they have installed in me the importance of love, family,life and God and to this day I live everyday knowing that I am loved.
This was 'That One Place' for me. That place happiness began and that place I was taught many valuable things about life itself. You can't achieve anything without struggle. So work hard in everything you do, but do it the RIGHT way - you'll find that more rewarding.
Love your parents; because while we are busy growing up,
they are also busy growing old.
Forever in debt to them both.
26 years and there love never fails.
Blessed.
xx
