The Story of A House

We all remember the house we grew up in. It’s the source of memories both good and sad and its where we learned more about life each year that we lived there. We made and played outside with friends through the seasons and only the weather occasionally forced us indoors. We rode bikes and went to the beach in the summer when one of our parents or older siblings would drive us there. We went on picnics and had backyard bar-b ques. We came home from school to smells from the kitchen that established life long memories.

The holidays provided a chance for us to visit with family and if the walls could talk there would be countless stories to tell of family history and all the intrigue of family dynamics. Each holiday was special and signified a specific time of the year that is interwoven in my memory.

Over the years the house enjoyed a few makeovers and received the care that all houses need to sustain and remain relevant. In time as our family grew older we separated and left the comfort of our home for new homes where we built new lives and memories but the home where I grew up was always etched in my memory and when I lay awake some nights my thoughts drift back to the simpler days of my youth.

My childhood home still stands and has sheltered many new generations and their families as houses do. Many more stories have become part of the legacy within the walls and that house will continue to live in the memories of all that walk through its door. After all, isn’t the story of a house the story of those that have lived there.