Memory Lane

Endings and beginnings… this is a long lasting trend on this blog I swear especially this past year. Chapters open and close throughout life but I’ve never had so many happen so close together. As I’ve said I also blame launching a new a career as partly responsible for the attention to it too. Yesterday was a busy one, and quite different from the day I had of Friday. Coming off Kakri’s release it was quite a somber experience in sharp contrast to the excitement and nervousness of releasing a new thing into the world, helping someone move from a house that held so, so many memories for me. I stood in the yard briefly several times looking out over the snowy landscape, the piles of plowed snow were almost in the same positions as my youth and watched my son clamber over the obstacle laughing as my sister’s dog bounded ahead of him. I remembered building what I saw as the most impressive snow fort, carving out with care the pile of snow, complete with fortifications and sledding escape only to have to redo at least part of it every time the plow came through again. I looked at the house next door, empty now and remembered the late summer nights with music over there and the children that played with us long after the sun went down. I walked to through the front yard, looking at the apple trees that occasionally dot the yard and the places where the old flower beds slept under the snow. The flower beds that used to be the pride and joy of this house, only shortly followed by the huge vegetable garden in the back. My husband is busy helping move the larger items with my father in law  while the owner of this house offers advice and says what order stuff is going out in. He doesn’t bother me as I walk out back, he knows I need the moments with the memories. Here in the back yard new memories assault me, bonfires at night, the forts that were never fully constructed but made ample use of fall leaves as they fell to at least blueprint where the other five million solid walls should have been. There was only about one physical wall, maybe a semi-solid cone of branches and sticks if we were lucky, but we were ambitious and dreamed big.

Eventually I did make my way back and finally helped move and pack up things into boxes. My son runs from partial cleared room to partially cleared room, bribing his aunt, grandpas and others for crackers and other goodies while he waits somewhat patiently for us to finish what we need to. We still have another day out there but this will probably be his last trip since moving things around with a toddler in tow is rather difficult and even his really good patience for being so young was tried at the end of the day. I steal a moment or two with him, telling him stories of the snow forts, bonfires and times with friends while the others discuss the garage. I tell him of raiding the blackberry and raspberry bushes that dot the yard and how good it tasted, I tell him of the times his father and I spent out here. Our stories are somewhat cut short as I ‘m called back to moving duty but I’m glad I got the chance to share at least sometime in this place with him as well.

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2 thoughts on “Memory Lane

  1. Touching and it leaves me in awe of your ability to describe how much a place can become infused with memory. I’ve left places like that before, and it always feels like I’m leaving a part of my soul there, to find at some point in the future.

    • Why thank you in regards to my ability. It does feel like you are leaving a piece of yourself behind in places like this. To me it is somewhat like that saying of you never fully leave the people you’ve met in your life, you never fully leave the places you’ve been and have these types of memories from. In my case it was a piece of me I left the other day was that little girl running around doing all these things. I think you do find it again in the future, when another place evokes the same emotions and stirs the memories but I will say it definitely never does seem the same.

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