If these Walls Could Talk..

I've never been one to condone vandalizing others' property, but without even knowing it, I too have participated in such an act.

I remember the days when we'd spend hours writing our names on this storage room that is next to my grandma's house. We'd be there writing with any old rusty nail we could find. We tended to favor the nails cuz the palitos from the trees would easily break apart. We were never officially given permission, but we never really asked. So there we'd be, etching our names into stone, not ever giving a thought as to how long those walls would stand.

We weren't the first ones to come up with the idea. My father wrote out my brothers' and my name back in 1987. It's hard to believe that it's been twenty-four years and we can still go up and see our names imprinted there (my youngest brother's name was added years later).

The names of primos, primas, tio, tias, loves come and gone, important dates, and names of the newest members of the family are there. It's interesting how actions that seemed insignificant back then have so much meaning today. It's also a good thing that storage room was never torn down.