Closer Than I Was Yesterday

Home Sweet Home


 

 

The song, “The House that built me”, by Miranda Lambert always brings me to tears. The first time I heard it, I swore it was written about me. Even though we moved out, the summer after my eighth grade year, that house on Florida Street is forever carved on my heart. My best and worst childhood memories reside there.

My daddy may not have built it from the ground up, but he did remodel it. Mom was so proud of that house. She poured herself into every detail. I remember the year we were in the Christmas Pilgrimage, I felt like I lived in a fairytale.

Yes those handprints on the front side walk are mine, and yes my favorite dog is buried in that back yard. I’ve thought about stopping in a million times to see if I could take a look around. Truth is, I don’t think I could, without a total breakdown.

I constantly fantasize about my own dream house. It’s a Victorian style farm house. White with black shutters, red door and a wraparound porch. I get lost in the images on Pinterest. Pinning franticly as if the pictures will magically meld together and when I wake up it will be my reality.

The details are so vivid I can smell the food I am cooking in my white kitchen. I can hear the kids up and down the wooden stair case. The flower beds outside are so colorful and gorgeous that they are either fake or someone other than me takes care of them. Along with her creative imagination, my mother passed on to me her brown thumb.

The house is always tidy and everyone always wears a smile. It’s a beautiful dream that will one day, by the grace of God, be real. Well, maybe not the tidy and smile part, but that’s ok. So for now I will be thankful for the home I share with my little family and the daily blessings I receive. I will bask in the joy of knowing that I may not be there yet, but I am closer than I was yesterday.

KATE JAMES-FLUITT is a mother of two daughters and a son, a wife and advertising representative/staff writer for the Pleasanton Express.


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