Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Fox Run Road

When I have dreams at night, if they take place in a home/house, a major percentage of them take place in my childhood home. Whether the dream is sweet and comforting, a nightmare, or even an illogical bunch of nothingness, most of the time it is back grounded by this home.

I grew up in a solid brick colonial home. To me it was picturesque. We owned an acre of land and it was mostly forest. I spent most of my playtime in that forest. It had a creek that ran through it. I was quite taken with my imagination, and would spend hours trucking the creek pretending I was Laura Ingalls. There were vines in the trees you could swing on. There was an huge old tree that had fallen over years before, but was still attached to all the roots that came ripping up from the ground. Because of this, it didn't quite lay on the ground and could give a bounce. You could have 18 kids straddle it and bounce up and down. We would use it as our balance beam, and if we were tricky enough we would bounce as we balanced. The creek ran under the road so there was a huge metal pipe that you could stand up in and actually walk under our street. We could collect clay from the creek walls and make molds. We would catch water bugs, and tadpoles.

Our house was settled deep in a hill. It was so steep on all 4 side that sled riding was a given on snowy days. You knew if Dad had to park at the top of the driveway the night before, you would probably have a snow day from school. We had a deck attached to the back of the house that was the whole length of the house, it was connected to our first floor, but with all the hills from the back yard it was up in the air a whole story. Under neath it walking out from the basement was a brick layed patio with a swing.

I moved there when I was 2, and had to move away when I was 14. My dad was sick and couldn't climb the stairs anymore. As bad as things were (mom and I would have to step by step drag him upstairs at brother was away at college) I in my selfish 14 year old mind didn't want to go. I was heartbroken leaving my home.

That was for 12 years that I lived there. I was dumbfounded the other morning, when I was waken up from a dream taking place in that house, and realizing that I have been married to Mike for almost 16 years! I have been with him longer than those forever childhood 12 years.
I guess that house is a feeling of my safe place. Things that happen then will never be again. I was carefree. I was young. I felt safe and loved. When I was 14 things changed drastically as I guess they do for everyone. I grew up. I had responsibilities. My innocence was slowly lost by time and age and life. In 3 short years after leaving that home I was getting married and pregnant. Five years after that my dad was gone. Three more kids, my mom just snowballed far away from that time and now I am here. Here is a great place...don't get me wrong! It is just so far away, from what was.
I hope more than anything, that while my children are carefree and innocent, I can create that loving, safe nook. For them to get to carry with them throughout their journey in life:)