Well, Brannon, Milah, Dessie and Charli Jo all spent the night at "the old house", now their new home, last night - and I lay awake thinking of all the many years we called that place "home".
I still feel a little pull at my heart strings each time I cross that threshhold. All is clean and fresh and new, but it's still the same walls that held us all so safe for so many, many years, the same windows you stood at and watched as snow fell, or black clouds rumbled across the sky, or ice and sleet beat against them. It's the same windows I stood at with the video camera and filmed you kids on the snow sleds (too cold to come out myself!), and watched the sun come up in the morning, and the moon at night - the same windows at least a few of you crawled out at night!
It's the same door I walked through the day we brought Katie home from the hospital - after stepping out of the car onto the newly laid ashpalt! What a surprize! It's the door that Brant carried Owen across when he finally came home from the hospital! It's the door you went off to school from every morning, heading for the school bus. The door that was never locked, because there was just no need. And there's the back door with Trinket's scratches - a reminder of a special dog that brought our family such happiness with her 39 puppies! Those were the stairs you ran up and down, and up and down, and up and down, for 26 years - the stairs we hid under when the storms raged - still standing strong! Those were the floors where Katie took her first steps, and where Dessie, 13 years later, took her first steps. The medicine cabinet from which many a bloodied knee and scraped elbow was bandaged, and the tub where many a little booty was bathed!
Once stripped of the carpet and drywall, the bare floor boards and walls were filled with layers of dust and grime, the kind of stuff that just comes with age, and recent neglect. There was suddently exposed the years and years of dust, and damage, and scars. The outdated light fixtures that never got changed. The crumbling trim that never got replaced. But still it stood. A somewhat perfect analogy of our little (but ever growing) family. Somewhat damaged, slightly aged, a little ragged, and slightly scarred by all these years of dysfunction and addictions. But still standing, still a family, still able to love and be loved.
And, no matter the grime and dust that lay beneath the floors or between the walls, or the layers of paint that cover them - it will always be your childhood home - the home where I wiped away your tears, and read to you, and tucked you in, and planned your graduations and your weddings, and sometimes failed you, but always loved you. The home where we fought hard, and loved hard, and survived ANYTHING that this old world threw at us - because we were a family.
My hope is that Brannon and Milah and Charli and Dessie learn to love it as their home, and that they'll find much happiness there.
I love you all more than I can possibly put in words - Mom.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
That's the kitchen where Mom got her arm stuck behind the fridge when I was four, and I had to call Dad at work to come and get her out! How about the chicken I "rescued" and dropped on that kitchen floor with a broken neck! And there was the kitten Lindsey and I "found in the field", though that's not really house related, since in reality we picked it up at a friends who was getting rid of it. But we knew Mom was a sucker for poor lost animals. Brant and I had our first kiss at the top of those stairs. I think Daniel and Brant both sat in that living room to ask Dad for permission to marry his daughters. How about Daniel's classic "There's a bun in the Oven" announcement of Alison at the kitchen table, and our "Kamryn's gonna be a big sister" in the living room! And thank Heaven's for the good times, because at times the bad were too rough to write about! But the point is, it's just a house, and while I'm excited to see the new memories that might be made there, if it collapsed on the ground tomorrow I can assure you not a single memory, good or bad, would be left buried in the heap of dirty walls or dusty floorboards that made up the 24+ years we put in there.
ReplyDeleteOk ladies, y'all have made both me and Brannon cry just reading this. We only hope that we can continue to make more everlasting memories in this home and fill it with just as much love as you all have already put into it. From Roxie and Katie's "wuz here's" written in the office window, to the initials KAM carved in the closet in the front bedroom and wherever else you all made your little nitches they're all still there and will always be. If anything I think that's what makes this place so much more of a home is the history it has in it's walls. People move from place to place and always wonder about what past lives were lived in those places never knowing what had been and the love that had been built within them. To me its a privilege to actually get to live in such a beautiful home to begin with and to get to become a part of the history of this home. The treasure of it is that all those memories are all still alive and more are yet to come. I couldn't even have imagined what it would have been like if complete strangers lived in the house, it just wouldn't of been right. It might have been pretty funny actually if you think of it. I could see any one of you becoming home sick at least once a week and just wanting to come over and visit the house just to take a trip down memory lane and knocking on their door at odd hours and seeing the looks on their faces. (hilarious) At least with Brannon and I here there won't be any worries at all, unless that actually begins to happen on a regular basis then we may have to charge museum viewing fees or something along that nature. Not really! In all honesty I hope you all know that this is still and will always be the home you all grew up in no matter what and that's the way we plan on keeping it.
ReplyDelete