Harris Lane. Now that has some memories on it. There are actually many lanes and streets and boulevards all over East Las Vegas that hold memories for me. The best memories. The worst memories. And memories that have made me who I am.
I will choose joy today as I say goodbye to my family home. My parents and siblings, aunts and uncles, many cousins and friends, all have been part of that house being made into a home. It takes people making joy-filled memories to have a real home, and we had that. Most of all though, my parents' love for each other and us was why that place was home to me. Despite all the troubles and trials, I can look on that place with joy and love because of them.
Bledsoe Lane and Harris Lane and all the other roads in my old neighborhood will still be there, but they won't ever be the same without us there anymore. I know that for sure. And that gives me a tempered joy—joy in knowing how much my parents made a difference in establishing a legacy of love that is only held down by missing their presence for so long.
My joy is full today. My joy has tears washing away any pain, leaving a shining, golden memory lane to walk upon whenever I may need it.