My grandparents purchased their house in the mid-1970s in which to raise my mother, who was an only child at the time. It was a typical home of that era; there was wood paneling, shag carpets, and an ornate wooden front door. The home saw a lot of change within my family members, too. The birth of my aunt and uncle, the divorce of my grandparents, the birth of my sister (their first grandchild), the graduation of my mother, aunt, and uncle from high school and college, and my birth all occurred while my family was living in this home. Once my mother, aunt, and uncle reached adulthood, my nana packed up and moved out. My parents, sister, and I lived here for a short time, but soon had to leave, as the home had become nearly dilapidated at this point. A little over a year later when my mother was diagnosed with cancer and my sister and I needed somewhere to live as my father worked long hours, my nana was happy to take us in. However, the home she was in was not suitable for raising a preteen and a toddler. During her search, she realized the home she’d left just years before was being renovated. So, she sub-leased another home while she waited for the one she’d raised all of her children in to be redone. When it was time to move back in, we were all surprised. The once run-down, outdated home was now at the peak of modernity. It now showcased a dazzling chandelier, an indoor jacuzzi, and a