When I was young I moved into a lovely home, the middle house on a cul se sac. Sheltering the yard were big trees that I watched hallmark look to the seasons and change with the turning of the earth.
Knowing my neighborhood was built to protect most of the natural beauty, we had no lights or sidewalks. We lived in a little piece of the bigger Chicago suburbs, in a place that was very beautiful and like nowhere one could describe.
We walked for many hours and years around a small lake and held parties at a little beach. My mom designed the house and it was lavish in its artistry. No one had ever seen an open space letting light and the scenery into where we lived quite like this house. It lent itself to many big parties and little gatherings and it never felt empty.
Lastly it was filled to the top with love and fun, lots of fun. Last year our beloved Bob, my dad, said good night and bid this earth farewell.
From that day on the house became a memory of him and we banded as a family together and decided it was his home, no longer ours.
We sold our favorite open-hearted home and gave away most of our dearly used couches. Family and close friends cried saying goodbye to this wonderful place. Mom and I are off on a new adventure, living in the city and finding the lakefront our comfort when we look for beauty. But most importantly, I’ve learned that wherever my mom and sister are or wherever my friends and family visit is my home.
