Friday, July 5, 2013

Colder Walls and the Emptiest of Spaces

One may find it strange that I will miss that home. The new house is much cleaner. The new house has not weathered damage enough to destroy three houses. The new house is bigger.

One may also find it strange I just started thinking of that place as home. A compilation of walls and furniture, my home was never my home until memories were there. Sure, I had experiences at that location before. But nothing made it my home until people came through. Many people. People who stay, people who smile.
There were always smiles. Even when there were tears, there were smiles. The people that lived in that home knew how to cry, but they mastered how to smile. Laughter was a common sound to resonate through that home. Laughter draped the halls and smiles became banners along the walkways. Tears are temporary; but smiles can live forever.

Smiles stay with a house. Memories are the sprites of the mind, casting shadows and images on walls from the timeline of our lives. Smiles become as much a part of the house as the dents in and the color of the walls. That was the chair from which I first opened up and shared with my family. That hallway is where we always stalled our sleep with quite long discussions of life, love, and the mysteries of the universe. Life has a way of splashing across the walls we inhabit.

Maybe that is why I will miss that house. It seemed to represent our little crew of people trying to make it through life. We have been wrecked from inside. We cover up a little; we paint the exposed concrete.
There are still scars, however. One can replace the drywall, but that does not replace the damaged pipe that flooded the carpet, destroying it. That is what our family is I suppose. We are all broken people, doing our best to shelter and take care of each other.

Shelter, That is what that home represented: “Hey, we are all beat up and broken too. No judgments here. Just four walls for those who want a place to call home. That home was always open. We never had much, but we would always share. People made the house what it was. It did not matter what the condition of the house was; a friend knew what it meant: shelter.

The new house is also shelter. It will also be memories. But it has not earned it yet. And those walls will be missed. I will miss my home. But I will forge new memories here. With these clean walls, and this whole house. Welcome, Friends. Here is shelter.

No comments:

Post a Comment