“I know they say you can’t go home again. I just had to come back one last time…”
We had a dog named Britt. He was a Brittany Spaniel. From what I remember about Britt, he was spirited and loved cats. When Britt caught a smell in the air… BOOM… Britt took off running like he stole something. I ate dog food with Britt and I liked it. I sat in my driveway and had Dog Chow with that dog, he was happy to share. I don’t remember what my parents did with Britt but I think his excursions eventually wore out their welcome and Britt had to find a new home. I will tell myself that Britt was adopted by a family that lived in a white farm house on hundreds of acres and they had lots of cats for Britt to protect. I wonder if Britt lived a happy life on that farm, I think he did.
“…these hand prints on the front steps are mine….”
Have you ever stuck your hands or wrote your initials in fresh concrete? I have. My family’s initials reside just outside of the garage door on the corner of the house where my dad built a storage area for our swimming pool supplies. We also have our initials in the half basketball court that my daddy built for me thinking that I would love to play basketball…
I hated and still hate basketball, I’d rather go to the dentist than watch basketball. Initials again in the slab up on the hill in the backyard where my daddy kept his old work truck and his tools and where later my Yamaha scooter would be stored when I wasn’t busy hauling ass through the neighborhood on it or sneaking out of the house to ride across town on it.
“…and I bet you didn’t know, under that live oak, my favorite dog is buried in the yard…”
I mourned a baby brown bird. My cat snatched her and I snatched her from my cat. The baby bird must have fallen from a tree, or my satanic cat Pepper crawled her ass up in that tree and stole that baby bird from its nest. Either way, I got the baby bird and Pepper was pissed. My mom tried to explain that a momma bird won’t come for her babies if she smells humans on them. I placed that bird on top of paper towels in a Country Crock butter container and waited hours and days for the momma to get her baby. The momma never came. The baby died, abandoned and alone. I put the lid on that Country Crock butter container and I gave that baby the proper burial it deserved.
“…I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing…”
My senior year of high school my daddy came home early from a hunting trip… I was alone in the living room sitting in the floor watching TV, he sat down and said “I’m leaving your mom.” I couldn’t wrap my brain around his words, they had been married 23 years and I had school the next day, what the hell was he saying… I paused and replied, “well you better go tell her cause she’s going to be pissed.” He went to the back of the house where my mom was busy being busy, 5 minutes later he walked back through the house and left. My bubble exploded in to the atmosphere. My life felt like a lie. In those moments I went from 17 to 37 in a matter of 5 minutes. My life and my mom’s life would never be the same. Abandoned…
“…momma cut out pictures of houses for years, from ‘Better Homes and Garden’ magazines. Plans were drawn, and concrete poured, and nail by nail and board by board, daddy gave life to momma’s dream…”
When my daddy was building our home, I remember snooping all over the place, checking out every nook and cranny. We had a huge basement and a crawl space far in the back corner, I remember the musty smell of that dirt crawl space. My dad had left a little block out in the wall so you could access the dirt crawl space by crawling through it. When you got in the crawl space you could scare the shit out of people on your back patio by shouting at them through the vents. I imagined that there were dead bodies buried there.
“…I thought if I could touch this place or feel it this brokenness inside me might start healing…”
My family home was a palace in my memories. One birthday I rode a bike down the hallway…ON THE CARPET, OMG, my momma was probably holding her breath for that one. The beautiful pool with neighborhood parties, the fabric textured wallpaper (okay it was more like carpet) that doted the hallway walls. My parents huge jacuzzi tub that had steps to get in to it. Beautiful landscaping. A huge fenced yard. My Laura Ashley bedspread and bright colored walls. So many Holiday’s spent there.
Getting toilet paper’ed by my friends and busting them in action as we were leaving for our hunting property in the early morning hour. The stone wall and stone mailbox. Pepper would sit on top of that mailbox while I waited on my school bus. That stone mailbox also had red bugs all in it and I would get as close as possible to stare at them and wonder what they were so busy doing running around on those stones.
My family home was my safety zone, my shelter, a place that was never supposed to have a For Sale sign in its front yard.
“…I thought that maybe I could find myself. If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave. Won’t take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me…”
The yard sale that my mom was forced to have was the worst. She was selling things that had memories with them. As fast as she could put out those ugly wood bowls and spoons, I would stash them for myself for my future home. The tea jug that she was trying to sell… I don’t think so momma, that one is mine too! She had to sell what she could. She didn’t work, she had just spent 17 year raising me, the bought child, and now she was alone, we were both alone. But I’ll be damned if someone else enjoy those wooden bowls besides me… and I had them for decades.
We also went through a time when we thought trolls were on our roof! Something was running full blast up there. We had never been alone or had to ward off the monsters under our beds, my daddy always did that. There was one night when the trolls got so rowdy up there that my mom had to call one of her friends husbands to come check out the ruckus. I never looked at a squirrel the same again.
“…you leave home, you move on and you do the best you can. I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am…”
Once we moved. I never went back. I never went back for over 20 years. I did not go back until January 2018.
I had to really put growing up in super sonic overdrive. I went to college for about 2 hours and decided I had better things to be doing with my time. I started working full time as an administrative assistance with a general contractor in Roswell, Georgia. I wanted a car note and utility bills and a built-in car phone and credit cards faster than the New Orleans Saints had their 2019 Superbowl appearance stolen from them. I bought my first home when I was 19… NINETEEN! That just aint right yall!
I couldn’t let life abandon me. I felt that if you didn’t stay 10 steps ahead at all times that someone was going to find me in the back of my house to tell me they were leaving forever. Abandonment. Never would I ever depend on anyone again.
“…won’t take nothing but a memory from the house that, built me…”
Sticks and stones may break my bones but no words will ever harm me.
That’s What She Said
That's What She Said... 