Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The House that Built Me

As you know, I would be happy as a hermit.  I don't get bored at home.  I feel at total peace.  I love my house:  the colors, smells, and just the general hominess of it.  I hope others feel it when they come over. 

I have no desire to move either.  We looked into moving about 5 or 6 years ago, but every house we looked at I was comparing it to the house we live in now.  Needless to say, we didn't move.  Some people don't feel any attachment to the homes they live in.  They like to move every few years, and if they don't move they change out their furniture.  I don't do well with change.  Most of my furniture is hand-me-downs.  When I look at the pieces I see the people they belonged to first; my parents, Hopson's parent, our grandparents, and even our great-grands.  So many of the pieces have stories.  Those stories are part of who I am.

The house I grew up in is like that for me too.  As I was driving to take one of the children somewhere today I heard the song:  The House that Built Me by Miranda Lambert.  I was able to go into my old house a few years ago.  It was weird.  I heard my memories.  Steve David and my mom running down the front steps accidentally ripping the banister off the wall.  Pool balls clacking, '80's music blaring, movies, and laughter. Jason Register, Eddie Tarter, Brian Pitts, and Peter Kanakis all racing on floats & swimming in the pool.  I smelled my momma's cooking & suntan oil (Hawaiian Tropic).  I heard the laughter & felt the sadness.  It was very overwhelming.  I think that's the difference in having your parents alive; you can go home no matter where your parents are.  They may not live in the house you grew up in, but they give you a sense of coming home.  I am the matriarch in my family, so I am home for my siblings.  It's a very sobering fact of life for me.  There are so many days I need my mom's advice.  I am thankful for my mother-in-law, family, and friends because they help, but some days it's just not the same.

Just to reach out and touch something that my parents touched sometimes makes me feel closer to them, and help me remember the times in my teenage life that were very happy.  I hope I'm providing that for my children and their friends.  I hope once they're gone & they come back they will feel a connection with our home.

No recipe tonight because we still have no cook top.  Yesterday my microwave & oven when out, but the homemade handyman fixed them.  Oops, gotta go drive E to dance...

Y'all be blessed beyond measure,
~ashley

PS~we're having an albino dinner tonight.  Baked chicken, rice, and slaw.  Very boring plate; I'm ready to have my cook top back!

2 comments:

  1. love this ashley! they had a great house...and I DO remember the smell of suntan oil!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ok !I just figured out what this is ,your blog! OH ,I love it.I love you ASH !I wish we got together more.The memories of your house make me smile!Lets shoot for a walk or unch date soon.I am off on Monday and Thursdays!Malia

    ReplyDelete

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