Wednesday, June 16, 2010
This Old House
My parents recently built a beautiful new home, sold their old home, and have slowly been moving everything over to the new house. On Sunday, they went to the old house for the last time to do a few things, lock up and walk away forever.
My mom told me that she and my dad got emotional as they left. As my mom was telling me and my sister this, she started to cry again. I couldn't help myself--I started laughing. I couldn't believe she was getting so emotional about a house--one that she was leaving for something bigger and better. I told her I felt nothing for the house. I said "Home is where your family is and this is your home now." I told them I didn't care about the old house and I really thought I didn't.
Then last night I dreamt about the old house. I promise I am not making this up. I dreamt about playing board games in the family room, I dreamt about our playhouse in the backyard and the hours we would play back there every summer, I dreamt about my bedroom, and our living room at Christmas with the tree. I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep. All I could think about was the old house and how it held all of my memories.
I love that house. It may not look like a lot, but it was home to me for most of my life. It was a happy place. Friends were always welcome and we always had a lot of fun. We moved in when I was five and I left home at eighteen to go to college. That home is my childhood--and what a great childhood I had. I will miss it.