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IT WAS A HOME
We feel an affinity for this old house we walk by almost every day.
I imagine because, like us, it’s old and tattered and gray.
The house is abandoned now…if you look closely you might detect a frown…
rumor has it…the new owners…are going to tear this old house down.
They decided it wasn’t worth saving…but they like the neighborhood, the lot, the space…so they’re going to tear it down and build a new house in its place.
I suppose that’s what makes us pause every now and then as on our morning walk we roam…knowing we’re not standing in front of an abandoned house…
We’re standing in front of an abandoned home.
A home still filled with memories and stories we should not disregard…
A home where a family with pets and children once played in its front yard.
When we stop to listen we can hear the echoes of the memories that make a family…we hear celebrations of love, we hear laughter and joy…we hear sadness and tragedy.
And we make a silent wish that when they tear this old house down…
those memories will find a way to roam…
in search of the family who made them…
and find their way back home.
