The House

The house I grew up in will officially be on the market in the next couple of days. This makes me so sad. I thought I was sad 4 yrs ago when my parents decided they were going to move closer to me. I cried and had mixed feelings of never getting to go back there and see my house. I still refer to it as my house even though I haven't lived there in over 16 yrs. In the last 4 yrs, I have been able to go back. Daddy hadn't finished up working yet and was still living there, even though Mom and my brother had moved already. This is more than a house to me, it is a home. I lived most of my life in it. I have so many memories. I also thought that when we were there in April to clean out, it would be the last time I would be there. When we left, I touched the walls, cried and tried to memorize the way everything looked. This time everything seems so final. There will not be a reason to go back again. The house is empty. No furniture, no pictures on the walls. I never thought that I would leave that house the way I did, with Daddy gone. I always thought he would be the one to say the house was cleaned out and he was ready to sell it. It was harder to leave this time. I noticed the girls had been playing with rocks that they brought inside. I didn't know where they found them, but when I saw them, I decided I would take one home with me. So, before we leave, I will go down to the gravel driveway and pick up one of the rocks and bring it home. It might seem silly, but it is something I could bring with me that would remind me of the 32 yrs that my family spent in that house.