Friday, December 12, 2014

Now You've Got My Attention

Typing up a letter tonight from Mom to Dad.  Excerpt:

I got your letter with the story about the cow.  You've had your share of adventures!

Well, now, I think I'll be shifting over to Dad's letters for a bit to find out what's up with this cow business.  I'll keep you posted!

In other news, my childhood home is no longer ours.

I try not to be too emotional about these things because, let's face it, if I did I'd never be able to get out of bed in the morning.  Leading up to today I had very calmly told myself that "it's just an house" and that "it's the memories that matter."  And then at 9:00 this morning, my brother posted this photo online and I sat at my desk and cried.  

I've become quite an accomplished weeper in the office.  I used to hate to cry in public, but over the past few years I've been able to hone the craft.  Usually I need anywhere from 1-5 minutes to let tears flow, hyperventilate a little, and just.  be.  sad.  I have stopped retreating to the bathroom.  I decided, if someone walks in, whatever.  But anyway, no one ever has.

My parents bought this house in 1976 (or 1977.  It happened before I was born so it barely counts).  I'm too tired to do math right now, but my parents lived there for 30-something years.  Raised 3 kids in it.  Put an addition on.  Painted it 3 different colors.  Mowed the lawn.  Shoveled the driveway.  Sat on the deck.  Buried 3 cats in the backyard.  Thinking of what the time lapse of the life of us in this house would look like takes my breath away.  It was where everything happened.  Birthdays, Christmases, pictures before prom and the first days of school, games of Pictionary, football or basketball in the yard, movie nights, the cellar that flooded repeatedly.  People bringing their pants, skirts and jackets to be hemmed by my mom.  Guys from the band coming by to help Dad pack up for gigs.  The friends of my brothers that I had huge crushes on.

It's just a house.  But it was our house. So I took a moment this morning.  And I guess I'm taking another one now.  A moment to appreciate this house, to mourn its passing out of our family, to hope that the new owners will find as many happy memories and cherish this house as ours did.