Looking through old photo albums this week, I found this snap I made of the front gate at 37 Paddington Terrace, the last house in Jamaica that I lived in and the heart home for which this blog is named. This was the gate I went through in 1975 when I moved to New York City from Kingston. This was the gate that ushered me out into the world to embrace my future. Seeing it now makes me feel rather sentimental because the house in which I came of age is no longer there. In its place are spanking new townhouses that hold no memory of the stories that we lived on that sloping plot of land, no trace of the red and white house brushed on all sides by mango trees, no hint of the walls and windows and rooms that gave birth to and sheltered all our secret dreams.