#18…This place called home

I sit and close my eyes while a thousand pictures flutter through my mind. I see my sisters, my brothers, our old rooms, the TV in the living room, the couch, then the kitchen. I see my sister Michelle’s face and mine smiling side by side at our great accomplishment of pushing our twin beds together to make one big one. A thousand more images flash, all somewhat significant, but for some reason the image that keeps coming back is empty. Not empty in that it’s a blank screen, but it has no liveliness to it. This image I see, is of the outside of my childhood home. 

We had a beautiful white house with red shutters, a wrap around porch, some big, tall trees in the yard, a raggedy old swing set, a peony bush, a lilac bush, a white clothes line, and the place that takes up most of this image– the big square sidewalk that we used to draw on with chalk. The picture is warm and feels like comfort. The sun is bright and orange, the grass mowed, the sidewalk swept and the day cool. Autumn? Is that what season it is? Maybe it’s around 5 in the afternoon. Dad probably isn’t home and my siblings are probably inside. Maybe my oldest sister, Shelby is making dinner while mom naps. Michelle and Luke are probably playing G.I. Joes, and the cat “Newman” whom I named after the famous NASCAR driver, good ol #12, Ryan Newman, was probably sleeping under the red stool in the living room…. But, why, why am I outside alone in this image? I’m not seen in this image, because, well, it’s from my perspective, but I feel that I’m standing there…alone. 

I think the reason for this image is that I’ve been missing home a lot lately. Not the scary horrible things that went on, but actual home. When my siblings and I were just a room away from each other. When there was always going to be a home cooked meal and a few hugs. 

Guys… we take life too fast. We rush and rush through things to get to the next best things, but you know what? The best things… are right now. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that childhood home for just a moment, on one of our “good days” and watch my siblings all play and dance and get along. Maybe I could see that sweet old cat again, hug my younger self and tell her to try and enjoy the time with her siblings, because one day, she’s going to want to go back.

Now, if you read my previous post you’re probably wondering “why the heck would she want to go back if her parents were as bad as she said??” but is it possible… to be so hurt by something and still miss it? Still miss the sound of my mom’s voice, the way she’d laugh, even though I hear it in my own laugh on a daily basis, or the way she’d read us stories at night? Still miss the way my dad would toss us into the air so we could feel those knots in our tummies, only to fall back into his arms again? Still miss the mornings he’d make us his best “steak n eggs” breakfast? Call me crazy, but gosh I miss it. Don’t get me wrong, life was awful for the most part, but I’ve always been one to hold onto the good moments in life and I think that’s what I’ve done here.

So, let’s talk about why in this image I have, this little girl (me) is standing outside alone. Well…..first off, I’m not. I think young Morgan is inside running around in her pale pink velvet leotard she wore like her own skin, I think she’s helping her sister make dinner, chasing the cat and pestering Luke and Michelle who just wanted to blow up the enemies camp before supper was ready. I think 21 year old Morgan is the one standing outside. Looking in, trying to get just one more glance at this place…. This place called home. 

Now, this image I placed below isn’t quite the same as it once was. The old swing set and clothes line have since been torn down, the black railing has been replaced by a new white one, the sidewalk isn’t swept and it doesn’t feel as welcoming, but I did get it to embrace the exact angle of my perception. I also edited it to feel as close to as warm as I imagined. So,  I hope you enjoy this little image of my old home.

-Morgan