The Basement
It was really never anything special. The walls were plain and white with cobwebs in many of the corners; a thin grey carpet on the floor, often covered with a combination of dog fur and dust bunnies. Over the years I have added posters and done my best to keep the fur and spider webs away, but no matter what it looks like, my basement will always hold a special place in my memory.
Throughout my early childhood my basement never really was anything special. For a short while we had a television down there, but that soon moved up into the living room. After that there was never very much reason for me to go down there. My older brothers would go down there and hang out but I was never invited and didn’t really have any idea as to what went on. Later, when they both moved out I was able to take it over for myself.
Once I got a little older and was given free reign of the house, the basement became a place that would see me grow up into the person that I am today. Starting around my freshman year in high school I decided that I would clean it and turn it into a hangout space for my friends and me. Those blank white walls, now covered with Bob Marley posters and Hockey Jerseys, bore witness to many firsts in my life. First kiss, first beer, even the first time I cried over a failed test; all of these firsts took place within the confines of this room.
When thinking back on my various experiences I encountered in this basement, one memory jumps out to me in particular. Starting out very early in my life and leading all the way through middle school I was what you would call a “chubby” kid. As you could imagine, as a five foot nothing kid who weighed 185 pounds in eighth grade, I ran into more than a few bullies in my time.
It got to be such a nuisance to me that in the summer between eighth and ninth grade I decided that I wanted to do something about it. As I was afraid of what I might look like exercising in public, I moved my efforts below ground by working out on the treadmill in my basement.
Just over an hour a day during that summer and through the beginning part of freshman year were spent working on myself in that basement, both losing weight and gaining confidence in myself overall. That treadmill and the secluded confines of my basement provided me with the opportunity I needed, giving me the ability to work on myself in private until I was mentally strong enough to begin doing it in public.
After years of continuous use the band on our treadmill ended up breaking, but it has since been replaced with a stationary bike that I still use whenever I am home on breaks.
Since I have moved away from school, the majority of our basement has been turned into storage for my brothers and I, a repository of memories from past experiences in our life. I often go down there when I come back home and sift through boxes of stuff, reflecting on the many memories that they represent. The once blank canvas of that basement now covered with the memories of our past lives.
