The smell of this fall air gave me a memory.
(The patio at my childhood home.)
I remember when my parents sold their house of 29 years. It was where my siblings and I grew up. Our friends routinely came over and walked in (no knock required) and headed straight to the fridge to find whatever leftovers they could heat up. Our friends would even stop in and visit with my parents when we weren't there!
We had so many celebrations. So many parties. So many police and fire showing up because our uptight neighbor thought it was too late at night to have a bonfire. (It wasn’t too late. We had a beautiful pit. And firemen like Cuban cigars.) There was a huge dent in the wall from us sliding down the stairs in sleeping bags. My mom left it unfilled as she knew the memories were more important than earthly possessions. A broken stair rail from another night. I could fly down their curved stairs with my eyes closed because I’d done it thousands of times. The house was heavily loaded with memories. I didn’t want to lose them. Then my parents decided to retire and move.
I was so sad to leave thinking of all the memories made there. I didn’t get too emotional over all the weeks I helped pack. However, I sobbed when I left for their new house with a car full of stuff and one of their dogs. I was so happy for them. But how could they just abandon this place?
I thought that would be my last time there. But, it wasn’t. I ended up going back one more time after everything had been moved to let the maid in to clean.
I’ll never forget how empty the house felt. It didn’t feel like home anymore. That is when I realized that even though they left that house, we took the memories with us. That is what really matters in life. Carrying the life lessons, pain, love, and joy you experience.
I still chuckle with my brother when we mention different things that happened at that house. Like the time we broke a window when my parents were out of the country. We threw a rager of a party that had all first responders showing up, I got my first kidney stone, my brother knocked himself out falling from a zipline, and my sister ran off to the courthouse to get married, all while my parents were in Mexico. I’m not sure I’ll ever get a chance to spit down a laundry shoot again. But I’m thankful that their move taught me life isn’t about places, it’s about the people you share it with.
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