Go...
What is home to me?
I remember setting up a tent in the yard on Saturday for a birthday slumber party. Maybe it was my 10th or 11th and I had been allowed to go to an ALL NIGHT SKATE on Friday night. I remember having water balloon fights that left me with endless giggles and scars on my elbows. I remember a patch of dirt between the trees in the side yard where my little would play. A pink huffy bicycle that my brother used to learn to ride with no training wheels. A horse that was relentless and left me upside down holding on for dear life.
All of these are memories that I have of home.
The only home I remember where my parents were happy. They loved each other. I think back then the liked each other too. They slept in the same bed. They smiled and laughed. Home to me is that white house on the corner. I go back there every.single.time I make a trip to NC. I go there ALOT in my dreams.
In those dreams, the house is so different. Just as our lives changed, so did the house.
That is home to me. That is also a place I will never be able to go again.
Stop...
Confession: I went over 45 seconds :)
Heehee - I love that you confessed going over by 45 seconds! Stopping by from FMF - it's nice to meet you!
ReplyDeleteThat was so poignant about your parents. I just lost my Dad a few months ago. It's so interesting what we remember and where we go back to in our minds. Loved reading.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete