This Old House of Memories

It's over. Every box has been packed and shipped, every floor has been swept and inspected, every hole spackled, every sink has been scrubbed and wiped down. Our house is no longer our home. It has been "cleansed" of all of our personalities and is now ready to be filled w/new ones. Someone else's. Another family's.

Since everything is gone, our voices carry a lot further, there's no furniture, dining room table, TV or what-not shelf to absorb the vibrations of our voices. It now sounds like we're standing in cave rather than the cozy dwelling of a family of three. I remember when we first moved in. None of our furniture was there yet and there was five of us, my mother, myself, my sister, my step-father and my grandfather.

So much has changed.

If someone were to ask us @ the very moment we put the last piece of furniture in place what the dynamic of the family would be like when we took the last piece of furniture out, we'd probably think that things would be exactly where they were...w/the exception of my sister and I moving out and starting our own families. We'd believe that my mother and step-father would grow older and wiser as they entered middle-age and we'd ALL be able to take care of our grandfather as he entered his sunset years. Tech wise, we had two TVs, two VCRs, one sound system, one telephone and boombox. We had planned on staying @ the Southern Manors apartment complex for four or five years and then move on. That's what we would've said 16 years ago.

When we moved out of Meadow Woods (the name changed years ago), we moved three TVs, three VCRs, two TiVos, two DVD players, a PS2, two personal computers, two sound systems, three boomboxes and three cordless phones. I've been out of the US Army for eight years now, my sister is a reservist and is expecting her first child in December. My grandfather passed away about six years ago, my step-father about four years ago. My mother is dating again and I'm happy for her.

The memories aren't as heavy as one might think.

To me, the house was just an area that I lived in. In fact, the many of my memories about the house, have a lot to do w/me sitting in front of a TV or sleeping. I've always seen the place where I live as a place to relax and decompress. I've always seen it as a refuge, a home away from the home I spent the majority of my time in; outside, school, work, etc. I'm a total homebody, I like to stay in and read, write, listen to music, clear out my TiVo and watch memories are of me doing the aforementioned things, but nothing about the house itself. That's about the gist of it. The memories are in my actions. The memories are in me.


Anonymous said…
Here's to a new beginning. :)