The Memory Lane

“And old home scenes of my childhood
In fond memory appears”

She wasn’t ready for this.

Her dad had passed away, and her mom was moving closer to them upstate. They were getting everything out of the house so it could be sold.

She walked around the house and property. She could visualize each moment from her childhood.

Everywhere she looked, a scene played out before her eyes.

She went into the living room.
She saw Christmases go by. The dollhouse. The skates. The many clothes and trinkets. The curling iron and hair barrettes. She was there helping momma decorate the tree. They sang “Silent Night” on Christmas Eve. The cookies and milk were on the coffee table.

She saw the fight she had with her mom and dad. She wished she could reach through time and put a hand over that young girl’s mouth. Did she ever apologize to her momma and daddy for what she said?
Then she saw her and her family knelt in front of the couch together. That was the night that she prayed for salvation.

She went to the dining room.
She saw the birthday parties. Daddy sang Happy Birthday the silliest way he knew how because he knew she was always embarrassed during the birthday song. Family nights with board games and card games. All the family dinners where daddy ate every bite, and he made sure he told momma that the meal was good.

She went upstairs.
Her old room was empty, but she saw the long late-night phone calls. She saw herself as she was getting ready to go to church and didn’t think anything looked good enough. There were girly sheets, a comforter, and an old teddy bear that had long since gone. She’d had countless long conversations with the Lord about many things in this room.

She went outside.
She could see her brothers jumping off the front porch instead of taking the stairs.
She saw her dad hanging the tire in the big white oak tree.
There was her mom hanging clothes out on the line.

She was riding her bike down the gravel road. And she saw the time she flew over the handlebars as the chain caught.

She saw all the times she and her boyfriend sat on the porch swing and how they looked into each other’s eyes. She saw the time that her boyfriend knelt on one knee and proposed.
She saw herself leaving the house on the day of her wedding. It was the last time she’d leave that house as a permanent resident.

She had come back to this house for special occasions and just to visit.

And now this house was going to be sold.
But those memories — those precious memories.

How they linger.

to those who need reminding,
– Caleb