Tuesday, November 22, 2011

LETTING GO AND GIVING THANKS



It was a small house on a big lot. There was nothing fancy, nothing grand about this place.



The gardens were not formal. They were wild and over grown and endless amounts of work. I could see digging was a nightmare, that heavy black gumbo, hard as rock, only a crazy person would dream what was once a cotton field, could be anything else.
  
Just down the drive on it's dead end street were relatives and neighbors who were always in and out.
Roses were grown, pets buried, fights started and ended. Tragedies and triumphes were always shared.




Flying barefoot out the front door, down the brick walk and into the park to explore was the most one could do.


Nature was the only thing that entertained. The big sky was your dream maker and the hot humid land always kept you in your place.
 
















 So it's been five years since this house was sold, all the contents of sixty years divided and sorted. The previous occupant's resettled and doing fine, realist that they are. Things change and one must let go, became the verse.
                                                                                                         















I had a dream last night and in it, I heard the verse, like a echo. One must, one must let go.. So I too, am a realist. I know the gardens are gone,  the house disfigured, and a new modern family has settled in. I only hope that the new family can give thanks, for living, loving, being raised, and dreaming in that little house on the big lot full of memories.

                                       
                      Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

27 comments:

mrpeenee said...

Everybody gets their turn. It's good that you don't begrudge it.

Nita {ModVintageLife} said...

beautifully said

Fine Bessot said...

Les maisons deviennent des amies quand elles ont été aimées. Elles durent plus longtemps que nous et gardent de chaque amour la trace de son bienfait. Les maisons abandonnées peuvent revivre avec l’amour, aussi les jardins, les graines restées en sommeil dans l’attente d’un nouvel acquéreur, d’un nouvel amour !
Cet endroit est magnifique.

The houses become friends when they have loved. They last longer than us and each love keep track of its benefit. The abandoned houses can relive with love, also the gardens, the seeds remain dormant pending a new purchaser of a new love!
This place is beautiful.

Fine Bessot

Bourbon&Pearls said...

This gave me goosebumps.
Happy Thanksgiving!

Michael B. Gordon said...

Kevin, I have always felt that I am a temporary steward of my 115-year-old house garden for the years I will live here. People still talk about Mrs. Lloyd who gardened on my plot over 40 years ago. Hopefully, I will leave it in better condition than how I found it. That was a lovely post. Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Sallyford said...

Beautiful Kevin! How very lucky you were to grow up in one house and have all those precious memories. I moved every two years and have always yearned for roots, but I see there is also downside. Thank you for sharing and making us part of your experience, lot of love Sally xx

the gardener's cottage said...

first kevin thanks for the lovely comment. ditto my friend.

this post could have been written about my little place. the family that lived here before us lived here for 65 yrs. can you imagine the memories? luckily we came along and saved it b/c it had fallen out of escrow twice with the intention both times of demolishing it and putting up another mcmansion.

for me letting go frees me to receive more.

happy thanksgiving love.

Carey Brown Strombotne said...

beautiful post, kevin. and how lucky you were to have such a place. now the next family has the opportunity to create memories in that lovely home. i'm sure they are grateful that you were able to let go. happy thanksgiving!

An Urban Cottage said...

Very poetic, haunting but beautiful.

Happy Thanksgiving, Kevin.

victoria thorne said...

LOVE at the holidays and always

Susie said...

Kevin, Your post touched my heart. I wish you a happy Thanksgiving day. Hope it's spent with loved ones and friends. Smiles to you, Susie

Dandy said...

Happy Thanksgiving, Kevin! And thank you for still watching. Love to you and yours. gobble gobble :) Diane

A Thousand Clapping Hands said...

Dear Kevin,
It's meeting people like you that makes blogging so worthwhile, Kevin. Thank you so much.

My folks sold the house I grew up in about 4 years ago. I've never driven down that street since and don't think I ever will. But home really is wherever they are. My grandparent's house is another story altogether - I don't care who lives in that house...that house is still and always will be... mine! Ha!
Happy Thanksgiving, Kevin.
Catherine

Al said...

What a sweet and nostalgic post. Our family had a summer house, that we all cherished and loved. When it was sold so quickly, it was a shock. It felt like there had been a death in the family. So much of our lives took place in that little house. The memories are held close, and the dreams of times past still linger. Thank you for this beautiful reminder. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! -Al

Parnassus said...

Happy Thanksgiving!

What a beautiful place to grow up in, to create a sense of home in. You state that exploring the park was "the most one can do". I'm not sure if you mean that in a positive or a limiting way. My brother and I were magnetically drawn to the park, and we knew every vacant lot and small patch of woods for miles.

I can share the feeling of missing the house that I grew up in, a house that defined who I am in a lot of ways. Changes by the new owners actually help to distance yourself.

Pleasant memories are a lot to be thankful for. The house that I just posted about, in spite of its size and beauty, did not foster any love, and was destroyed in consequence.
--Road to Parnassus

BABYLON SISTERS said...

beautiful post!

Laurent said...

Very sharp, kid.

:)

Kathy S. said...

Even more melancholy when the former occupants are gone as well. I love my memories too...Happy Thanksgiving.

Mark D. Ruffner said...

A beautiful posting, Kevin.

I am in a house which likely will be my last one, and yet I've documented it (even the drive down the street to it) as though nothing is permanent, and as if I might one day want to remember through lovely photographs like yours.

Blooming Rose Musings said...

What a wonderful post, Kevin! I grew up back east in a house that was built in the late 1700's. It was so difficult to leave. But you are right, we much move on. However, I left a big piece of my heart in that lovely old house but I know the people who live there now are taking very good care of it. But I've got to admit, that even after all these years I still miss that house. Your post is poetry for this Thanksgiving.
I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and are enjoying a great weekend.

Stephen said...

What a lovely post. I really appreciate you, Kevin...

From Beyond My Kitchen Window said...

It's amazing how we can become attached to our homes. Its hard to let go though. When my parents moved from our childhood home I cried like a baby. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

for the love of a house said...

beautiful, sweet and poignant Kevin.
hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving....

joan

amy said...

lovely

betsy said...

It is heartbreaking when houses change hands, especially if they have gardens that the new owner will not love or want to care for. I think of this every time I go to an estate sale and see flower beds doomed to go back to grass-

A Perfect Gray said...

beautiful piece, kevin, so lovely and wistful...donna

Unknown said...

i love that you posted these pics. I think about that house so much--such an important character in my childhood. It was so twinkly and magical during the christmas holidays. I always remember digging around in the garage or in the "secret" middle closet, looking for whatever i was obsessed with at the time and coming out with something new and far more interesting--ooh, or lying on the long sofa in the living room while Mimi served me perfectly cut cheese and crackers w/ oysters and caviar.
When i dream of my warm and fuzzy grownup home, i think of this house:)
Thank you!