1.6.3 The house we lived in…

The house we lived in…

Was a home once. A little strange perhaps, but it was my home, my place. It was full once, of light and laughter and music and cooking smells.

And then it stopped. There were no sounds except shouting and sobbing. And slamming doors. Things didn’t fit the way they once had, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

Everything fell apart.

Then she moved out, and he packed his things. And I cried alone on the floor in an empty, darkened room with bits of paper and string stuck to the carpet, feeling helpless and furious, and embarrassed and destitute. Because it was all over.

It ended with a quiet departure. It ended with a mercilessly scrubbed house where no trace of them remained. It wasn’t our home. It was never my home again.

1.6.3 The House We Lived In R.D.

The house we lived in when I was a kid went through many changes - and I always thought that was really cool.  Some people move around a lot and have multiple homes growing up, but I got to have a house that grew with me.  Starting as a three bedroom, two bathroom modular home with a two-car garage.  Then adding a bedroom, that eventually turned into a storage space, and a pole barn and a horse barn and sheds and pools and pastures and gardens, until finally we had a four bedroom, three bathroom, with optional fifth bedroom home that hardly resembled the original structure.  I may have hated the work that went into it when I was a kid but I appreciate the outcome.  I could only hope that I would one day be as ambitious and talented as my parents.  They had everything they ever wanted either through hard work or building/making what they wanted.  I never appreciated the greatness of that as a kid, because that's just how things were in my house.  We didn't wait for other people to fix or change things, my parents were in constant motion and therefore our house, or life, was ever changing.  I remember writing about this in my college essay and my mom was so happy that she had provided me with such a fulfilling life that I so easily found something to write about and attribute to my flexibility and aptitude to change.  It's amazing the things you don't notice or don't pay attention to or appreciate when we are growing up - so preoccupied with ourselves and how we are doing/making it through the next day.  I am so grateful to my parents for giving me the stability of one childhood home.  Some may view that as a disadvantage (including myself sometimes) but overall I had a great childhood and I hope I am able to keep my childhood home in the family for many generations to come.  So I guess that also means I had better start learning about how to fix things in a house.