Recently, I found myself standing in front of my old house in Philadelphia. From 1966, when I was 4, until 1969, when we moved to Delaware County, I lived in the two-story quasi-Victorian on the 5400 block of North 12th Street. In the 50 years since we left, I’ve re-imagined that house a million times through the forgiving lens of memory. That house was beloved.

Seeing it in person, the house looked like it does in my dreams. Standing there was cathartic, because it reminded me of my origin...