There’s something special about getting to renovate the house I grew up in.
In the process of removing the existing floors I’ve discovered the floors I walked on when I was a little girl. The brown and gold flecked linoleum in the kitchen and the solid hardwood in the bedrooms.
In our attempt to remove the wallpaper in the back bedroom I found the green and yellow flower patterned paper that decorated my older sisters’ room when they were teenagers.
And I found pink walls underneath the wallpaper in my dad’s office which used to be the room I shared with my younger sister when we were in elementary school.
I’d forgotten the floors and the yellow and green wallpaper and the pink walls. These discoveries have unlocked a flood of memories.
Like the time I was sitting in my sisters’ yellow and green bedroom listening to Elton John’s Tiny Dancer on the radio one Saturday morning.
And now I remember sharing our bedroom with my grandmother for a while. She slept in a hospital bed beside our bed and I was scared.
And when Mom cooked oyster stew and I only put the milky part in my bowl to eat with oyster crackers because I don’t like oysters. Or when Dad showed me the way to eat cereal so that the little Krispies wouldn’t stick to the sides of the bowl. I sill eat my cereal that way.
I know other memories will come. Sweet, sad, and joyful ones. Maybe some scary ones, too. I am who I am because of the life that happened in that house and the people that loved me there. Those that taught me there and cared for me there.
Mom and Dad struggled there and forgave each other there. Dad took care of Mom there. We all learned there.
Learned to live and care and forgive there.
We all learned to love there in our house.
But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever. For what you have done I will always praise you in the presence of your faithful people. And I will hope in your name, for your name is good.
13 thoughts on “Our House ”
Isn’t it all the truth! I walked into this old house we bought years ago, and down into the basement (cellar, really) the old mustly fragrance immediately took me back to my grandparents’ home! I love how you say we learned to live and love there. Such a thoughtful writing!
Thank you Dawn.
I know exactly what you mean by describing that long time hidden wall paper. The young brains never forget and when we find the old things they come alive with all those memories
You’re right. Long forgotten memories, thoughts and feelings are rising to the surface. It’s kind of therapeutic.
You mentioned all five senses either directly or indirectly in that piece — it made it a very “real” piece of writing. I know you’re writing from the heart; some of our best work comes at those times. Thank you for sharing. It’s therapeutic for many of us.
Thank you for those kind words Belinda.
I can totally relate to this. I think it’s so wonderful that you are able to still have your family home and keep those memories alive. How precious !
Thank you Joy.
Wonderful memories, Marie! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Janet. I’m fortunate to be where memories are everywhere.
That’s a nice testimony.
Thank you Anna.