It was home for the first 21 years of my life. It’s where meals were cooked, inches where grown, laughter was had, and tears flowed. If those walls could talk, it would tell you some tales: some happy and some sad. It was the place I learned everything about who I am and where I came from, but what resonates most is that it was the last place I saw my father. He made the most permanent choice that changed everything. I’ve carried his choice with me for nearly 15 years. That is when I found art and self-reflection. Through my photography, I learned to talk about my loss.  I grew stronger. I learned to forgive, and I learned I wasn’t alone. Last year my childhood home was torn down, and now more than ever I am so grateful to have captured this image. I look back at it to remember where I came from, and now I can smile because I have come so far.