Ghosts of Self Past

Sitting here on a mattress in our once dining room I'm listening to an incredible cd my friend Jimmy made for me as a good-bye gift.  It's crazy the way he knows my taste in music.  I've always said music is my second language. I'm looking over at our once living room and although it's empty I see a lonely, lost woman who is separated from her husband of thirty years.  She realizes how much she still loves him no matter what he's done.  Perhaps God just gifted her with the realization that He put that unconditional love inside humans.  In any case, she realizes she wants him back.  He still loves her, comes over, and she sees him for the first time; again. 

I now see, instead of this mattress and box spring I'm sitting on, a room with a giant dining table. The lights are soft and gentle so everyone around the table looks beautiful, flawless. There are smiles on their faces and laughter echos as they chat and share.  In the corner by the table is a high chair with an adorable little boy, food all over his lovely little body, but crying for yet more cream.

Looking over by the white brick fireplace I see two adorable kids, a boy and girl, on Christmas Eve, adults are busy talking and drinking red wine and eating all sorts of delac. There's a fire in the fireplace and snow is on the ground outside..a lot of snow. 

Continue to rewind and I see a home filled with kids, teen kids.  It's New Years Eve 1999 and of course Prince is blaring on the stereo...yeah, you know what he's singing over and over; "1999"!  There's a ping pong table in the basement, kids there too....running through the house.  It's theirs for one night, to do what they want.  Guess what?  They didn't trash it. 

Memories flash before me as I stare at all the vacant spaces and empty walls.  But the walls have their own stories they can never really tell, unless of course you listen very, very hard and carefully. Then you'll hear, I promise.  This home has a life of it's own.  A little odd that it seems almost human.  Almost angel like.  It's taken lots of love and affection.  It's let me decorate her walls with whatever I wanted...and she was always grateful, always carried the fashions well....exceptionally well.  It's also been abused...walls hit out of anger...(oh don't act so shocked).  Doors slammed...But it always came back in a stunning and beautiful statement that said, "I still love you, I'll still make you feel as safe as possible." 

It's been said that home is where the heart is.  I'm leaving a bit of my heart here as I leave, sort of like a time capsule.