Within These Walls

Driving home today I saw on old house.
An abandoned, crumbling old relic of a house.
I had to stop.

I have been by this house numerous times before, as it is located on the road coming and going to my sister's house. I have always wanted to stop; I just never took the time.

Today I did.

As I walked towards the house, maybe following the same path that other feet from long ago had also once trod, I wondered about the people who had lived there. Who were they? What had happened to them and their home?

When the house was built, it was someone's pride and joy, their castle. While it doesn't look like it was a huge house, it was everything to that first family that made this house their home. Here it was that they dreamed of the future and remembered the past; it was here that they lived in the present.

And it was here that the moments, that would become memories, were created.

Maybe they laughed together as they prepared a meal.
Maybe they cried together at bedtime over a loss or heartache.
Maybe they fought with one another over misunderstandings.
Maybe they kissed every night before going to bed.
Maybe they didn't.

I wonder if they were childhood sweethearts,
or if they found each other late in life.
They might've had five children.
They might have never been able to have any children.

But they did dream, because we all have dreams.
They learned about each other, both the good and the bad things.
I'd like to imagine that they loved deeply and that they stuck together through all circumstances.
I hope they were happy.

What did they do on Christmas Eve? How did they celebrate Christmas? Easter? Thanksgiving?

How many birthdays were celebrated within these walls? 

How many picnics were eaten outside on the lawn?

Did they plant a garden together?

Did he work the fields while she cared for the daily needs of her family?

Did she enjoy her work? 

I'd like to think that she did. 

What about my home? What will the walls say about me, about Leo, and about our story together?

They would say that our lives were busy with work and all the normal demands of family life. They would say that there was much laughter, but that there were tears too. Our walls would say that even when there was anger and hurt, there was also grace and forgiveness. They would say that a family didn't just live here, they lived here, wholeheartedly. They would say that there was love, a lot of love, captured within the walls of this old farmhouse. 

And that's saying a lot. 

Love,

Dianne