A Little Red House

It all happened so fast. 

One minute I was dreaming of traveling, seeing eternity and beyond.   The next minute all I wanted was to have it all back.  The smells, the memories, the pain, the beauty, the hurt, the sweet moments of surrender.  Potato soup, pizza nights, the smell of sage, hugging, kissing, arguing, shooting things, fireworks, tree-climbing, trampolines, bon fires, milk fights, horses, sheep, horrible chickens... The life we had created.  

Yet, often reality is not so glamorous, and everyone has to give up things they love.  To hold on too tightly would be to sin, to hold on loosely would mean never really living.  And so, we clasp our loves close to our hearts for a time... nurture them, steward them, hate them, want to leave them, and return to them, often kicking and screaming...  I was screaming all right.

I didn’t think it would be like this!

I couldn’t even walk down the hill.  Tears rolled down without my consent.  They kept coming unwarranted. I looked up again.  “Breathe, just breathe! In, out, in, out.” I kept repeating these words in my head for about 5 minutes.  I had to stop.  I had to face the place.  I always thought going back would be easy, but now I see I was attached in ...more ways than one.  Experiences, moments, hardships, tears, yelling, aching, heartbreak, laughter, holidays.  It all rushed back in a moment.  It rushed back so fast I couldn’t even tell what memories I was having anymore...  All i knew is I was crying.  

I remember when... 

...I took this place for granted.  I thought I had spent (too much) time here, and felt boxed in.  I wanted to “see the world.” And all it had to offer.  Yet, every time I would come home, I would grow even more comfortable in a place that was becoming less and less “mine,” and more “my vacation spot.” Still it was home.  It truly allowed us to live in it.  It allowed us to mistreat it sometimes, and still it stood there just for us!  Letting us live comfortably and free. 

And it really made life really good. 

The thing is, memories were made here in this little red-stucco paradise.  Beautiful ones.  Romantic ones, tragedies, mysterious stories, philosophical debates, late night movies, prayers for hope and family fights.  All things good and beautiful. Five rowdy yet lovely children were raised here... (although my parents might argue the latter part of that statement). 

It takes courage... 

...To face something you once loved and were forced to leave due to life’s hits. To walk around in it for a second and remember.  And this is exactly what I did.  The new tenant showed me around.  Not for long, but for only a few moments. I couldn’t take much more than that.  But I began to understand how much love truly went into building and living in such a wonderful place.  I loved it.  It was home, and always will be.