Full circle.
Thirty-four years later, I stood in the same backyard.
When I was six years old, I spent countless afternoons at 28 Avocado Street. It was my cousin's house, and for a stretch of my childhood, I practically grew up there. Some of my earliest memories are tied to that backyard.
Last week, I stood in that same backyard again. Not as a kid this time, but as the agent who'd just helped sell it.
The listing itself belonged to my colleague Harrison. A buyer came through before it even hit the open market, and by the morning of the auction, the deal was done. Sold prior.
There's something strange, in the best way, about walking back into a place that shaped part of your childhood, decades later, in a completely different role. The house had changed. The street had changed. But standing in that yard again, it all came rushing back.
Some places just stay with you.

