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The big brick house
There´s a brick-made house right in the beginning of a long long street. The house is a very big one, with many ceramic and fancy decorations on its yard as well as many pine and lemon trees lying in the front garden. My gramps says the house was remodeled immediately after I was I born, so this house was not as big as it is now, actually it was totally different as it looks nowadays. People say that it´s normal for a person to get to know the place where he or she lives more than any other, however, in my case, I think that I know this house more than mine, and this is because this place happens to be my grandparents’ house. Throughout my life I´ve lived in a total of 5 houses, but the big-brick house has always been the same, so, on these fast and slow 18 years these bricks lock more memories than any other place I know. Sometimes we can find granny there just going around and making the house look great as always, sometimes we can find the big sand colored Ford truck parked in there, which only means that grandpa is home, sometimes me and my entire family find ourselves hanging around and, depending which day or holiday it is, one can observe how from those bricks emanate a particular feeling that actually has kept guessing if it´s real or if is just one of the many images I imagine coming out of that house. It is really fun to think about the house because that actually reminds me about all my relatives, like if that house was the central point of an entire machine. Like wheel and an axis, everything regarding family festivities rotates around the house. One can never tell if that house will stay there forever, but as far as I know the same old sensation that encircles the place will be present there at least until I give no more word or thought about it, or about the many people who share a bit of themselves to make those bricks and walls mean what they mean for us now. It´s good to know that if I don’t get to have such a place for so long time I can always go back and remember me and my family sharing moments like the ones that make those bricks so thrilling, like if the walls made of them were the owners of all my Sunday memories and good times.
