Every now and then, I go back to read early blog posts. Some seem brand new to me -- as if I had never seen them before, as if someone else had written them. The post that follows is one I do remember, and well, because it is rooted in recollections of the first home I remember. The posts from 2009, 2010 and even into 2011 almost have no comments left, at all. I wrote almost every day as if writing to the universe, hoping that someone might read and enjoy. (Kind of a "Field of Dreams" mentality). If nothing else, I can go back and enjoy the early posts, because they trigger my life's memories, capture moments in time, and serve as a record or diary of life on a specific day.
Please follow the link below to a post I wrote over three years ago, about Home, and what it means to me, decades later: My friend Lynn DiMenna found this post just a week ago, and commented, which was a little treasure as I was cruising back in time. Thank you, Lynn, for reminding me.
http://adirondackbaker.blogspot.com/2009/10/macarthur-drive.html
I had remembered initially reading this particular post and just went back to re-read it.
ReplyDeleteWe used to live in a carriage house off Lincoln Avenue for years - in the beginning it was just Tom and I. 2 years after we were married we added Jess to this home and 7 years later it was Cam we brought home. It was a great little house but eventually we outgrew the house and moved to Wilton.
With Jess married and out on her own, and Cam in his senior year of high school - I would love to be able to go back to "our house" and see it again. I would love to walk in the front door and remember the flour elf footprints on the floor leading to the Christmas tree on Christmas morning. Go to the living room where we had Jess' Barbie birthday party with just her and her dolls because that January she was sick as were all of her friends. Then walk up the hardwood stairs to the landing outside both of their bedrooms. Then laugh about the times they would be sent to their rooms, and sit in their doorways talking to each other. Open the closet door in Cam's room because that was his space where he would go to read and eventually fall asleep.
Some great memories are in my heart but also within the walls of that house. Part of me would love to go back inside the house - but the part of me wants to keep those memories just with us as well.
Jeannie, thanks for your walk down memory lane and starting my memory lane walk! :-)