I think I have a pretty good memory. My best friend says she rely’s on it for her reminiscing. I can remember most things very clearly and with exact detail, this is not always a good thing. Some memories need to be carefully folded and put away to be stored as a event that happened but doesn’t need to be fresh, unfortunately for me it can be difficult to achieve.
I can recall the day I moved into this house, there was a lot going on in life. My close friends were all busy, my brother was living 4 hours away, both my parents were working 40 hour weeks. My sister was on bed rest expecting their third little one, which meant my brother in-law was busy with work, two little ones and trips to visit my sister. I was also working and running to the hospital and quietly reveling in the excitement of moving into this house. Located on the place that calls my heart, the farm
I drove a cute four door bright red dodge neon at the time, it was a standard and that made it seem to drive faster. It could load and haul more stuff than one could imagine. Other than a truck I borrowed from a friend to move a sofa, that little neon moved all my belongings and more over the years before I retired her. I don’t even know how many loads and trips back and forth I took, they were mostly by myself when I had time before work, after work. At the time I was living in my parents basement so there was no technical rush to be moved out from them. For me it was more like smoking tire tracks on pavement so within two weeks I had everything out.
It was such a crazy time in everyone’s life I don’t think my dad even realized I had moved out, I honestly think he went downstairs one day to ask me something and noticed all my stuff was gone. I had talked to him about it, I was at the dinning room table telling him I was moving out. It might have been hard to hear me over the evening news and a full plate of dinner after a long days work at the morgue, he isn’t used to people talking to him. Others didn’t even know I was moving and suddenly here I was in this house settling in.
I vividly remember coming home from work to sort through my boxes and try to organize my new life. As I was walking through the living room I casually glanced out the window and then froze as I looked around, I live here….
I was in shock and awe that I was actually here and feared it was a dream. The semi panic set in of what have I done. Can I handle this? Who thought this was a smart idea? Quickly followed by a breaking smile and a growing elation of, it’s just me! All mine! I can dance and sing, play any music I want as loud as I want, make it mine and finally spread my wings.
Make no mistake the fear of paying bills and wondering what one will eat most days still sat in my thoughts but overall it was shadowed by positive vibes.
Over the years here alone I came to the conclusion I might be here alone forever, sitting on the deck with wine and a book.
Mowing the lawn, planting flower gardens and having backyard campfires. Enjoying life as much as one could alone when their heart desired to have more. It was 10 long alone and quiet sometimes tearful years before more would be added.
There is no quiet now, the whirlwind of life pleasantly took me over. I met the love of my life we got married and we now have two beautiful children.
There are toys and sippy cups scattered like land minds in the living room now and I still freeze when I walk in there now and think, I live here! This beautiful mess and sticky surfaces with crumbs from last weeks snack disaster ground into the carpet is mine. We dance sing and play nursery rhymes louder than should be possible for such tiny lungs.
The fear of paying the bills is there some days and wondering if they will even eat their snack that has been so lovingly prepared, but it is surrounded by love and joy.