I said "Goodbye" to my childhood home this past week. At the farm memories flood me with every step I take. This was my home, my refuge, my playground, and my practice field for life. I loved this place. Oh I'm sure you won't be impressed by what you see here. It was not impressive with square footage or the amount of acres it sat on. It needed plenty of updates. But that's what is great about being a kid. A kid doesn't care about those things. A kid simply cares that she feels safe at home, feels loved at home, and has lots of fun with the people she calls her family. This is the lesson I take today: care less about the appearance of my home. Quit apologizing for the mess. Invest in my children and love them well. Make sure that they feel safer at home than anywhere else. Let them have FUN and make a mess! THEN someday when they say goodbye to their childhood home (or return to it) the memories that flood them will be irreplaceable. They will smile and long to go back...
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| Coming back home. Such a good feeling. |
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| My kids entering my childhood home for the first time. |
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| The favorite place for us girls to stand was always the furnace. The carpet is worn here. |
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| My bedroom walls that were always covered in pictures. I spent hours staring at those walls. Away from the world. My own place. |
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| Now I have a daughter. Will she lay in bed and journal and dream and pray like I did? |
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| Cameron checks out the view from my bedroom. The acres of grass that I played on; we mowed. The driveway that we walked down to the bus. The field where I walked beans. |
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| The bathroom. A place of late night discussions among the best of friends: Mother and daughter. Sisters. |
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| I planted flowers here. Watched them grow. Rode bike around and around. Sang and swung. Played catch. Waited for mom to call us in for Popsicles. |
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| My Dad in the barn. I avoided this place. It didn't smell very nice. I was not your typical farm girl. |
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| Longing to go back. To be a little girl again watching my Daddy do his chores. Seeing my Grandpa eat his lunch. I love you Dad!!!! |
"Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”
3 comments:
So sweet. Your words, pictures, memories choked me up. Totally get it. Hope those memories stick with you as you look at the pictures you've taken.
I'm surprised you didn't mention the ceiling vent! I have lots of memories spying on people through that metal grate! That house had a lot character, but you're right, it's the memories, not the house.
Great post Sheila! It's crazy because even though I was there only a handful of times I totally remember the rooms especially that furnace! It's hard to explain, but to be in that house was to know and feel that it was truly LIVED in. And as the song goes it was the house that built you. It was a great house.
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