“Once upon a time we all walked on the golden road. It was a fair highway, through the Land of Lost Delight; shadow and sunshine were blessedly mingled, and every turn and dip revealed a fresh charm and a new loveliness to eager hearts and unspoiled eyes.
On that road we heard the song of morning stars; we drank in fragrances aerial and sweet as a May mist; we were rich in gossamer fancies and iris hopes; our hearts sought and found the boon of dreams; the years waited beyond and they were very fair; life was a rose-lipped comrade with purple flowers dripping from her fingers.
We may long have left the golden road behind, but its memories are the dearest of our eternal possessions; and those who cherish them as such may haply find a pleasure in the pages of this book, whose people are pilgrims on the golden road of youth.”
I remember the days, of just keeping time
Of hanging around in sleepy towns, forever
Back roads empty for miles
Well you can't have a dream and cut it to fit
But when I saw you I knew, we'd go together
Like a wink and a smile
The home where I spent the formative years of my existence, my childhood home, has been released from the hold of my family. A new family will take up residence. The reality of that has been swirling through my mind. For many years now, I have recognized the existence of home as not a material, but that of within. However, with the advent of Covid-19 and the need to quarantine, to lock ourselves within the buildings of our houses, as it were, it has given pause to reflect on the natural of the physical building of which I reside, both today and in the past.
Whatever the place, whether I walk within or just recall in my mind's eye, it as if the voices of the memory ring off the very walls, a myriad of emotions fill those echoes of times past. This is a reality in so much of my past, however the duration I have resided or spent within the confines of those walls. The memory of the place clings within me as my memory clings within it. Is it a real possibility that the physical manifestation of home is more than just a material object but a true living embodiment of our soul's and heart's cry?
I am beginning to realize the answer is a positive.
So, to the family who takes over my childhood home, I now speak. My heart is filled with hope and gratitude for your journey within those walls, thankful for the time I spent, the reality that all that partake within is a truth that has shaped my existence and will never cease to be, will always be a part of my being.
I wish the same for each of you. I do hope that the memories of that residence which cling to the walls, echoing off with ringing tones throughout the landscape, happily fill your days. I hope with every fibre of my being that your residing there is filled with the plethora of emotion I leave within and move forward beyond in my life.
In those walls are infused, the memory of little children's feet, both mine, my siblings, and their children, running down the hallways, noisily happy and sometimes not so, chattering through the rooms. The feet of the children were followed lovingly and loyally by an assortment of beloved furry friends, pets whose spirits remain on the property. These spirits, although left behind by me, welcome you with open hearts with wishes to show you the delights they still hold dear in their departed life. Allow them to guide as the purity of their animal hearts is beyond that of the humans that inhabited it. As most animals of all variety, they wish no ill will upon you.
Top L to R, me with kitten Calvin & Hobbes, my cat, Jamocha Almond Fudge,
Ollie (who looks dangerous but isn't), Calvin & Hobbes again. Bottom: me with my side-kick and world's best doggie ever, Ollie!
There were Christmas holidays spent in the living room, bursting over with the excitement of Santa's visits and then in the elder years, the cherished memories of mimosas, muffins, and family gatherings. Birthday parties, slumber parties, late night giggle sessions and all night computer sessions in online chat rooms (a good part of my youth was spent in the nineties), sneaking out for midnight meet-ups with friends, long hikes in the woods and hills, dips in the coolness of the lake, whether clothed or not.
Playing at the beach, slumber birthday parties, & school fun!
We were hired as babysitters, took care of neighbors' horses and cats, tended gardens for a little extra money. We were freely allowed to roam the neighborhood at all times of the year without any fears of our parents. In my teenage years, I longed for the intrigue and busyness of the city life but today I am grateful in a wide plethora of ways for the freedom I was allowed in my youth time in that neighborhood. To this day, I still hold strong connection to the friends' I grew up alongside, memories of moonlit walks, sail boat rides, the 4th of July games, the Halloween parties and trick or treating.
Corinne & I, after our original choreographed piece of Cats
Me with my first boyfriend, Monte Weatherby (deceased), on our way to my first prom!
Sophomore Year Prom!! L to R, Me, my boyfriend, Matt, my best friend, John, and his girl
friend, Janiene (also my best friend)
me with my soul sister, Silvia! (exchange student from Switzerland)
My siblings and I named several of the landmarks on our property we leave behind. The little creek by my playhouse (lovingly crafted by my father and grand-father, when I was in first grade ( I still have those memories of it being built), was named Lost Canoe Creek, so named for the plastic toy canoe my brother lost in it around age ten (found later in his early twenties, however, "Found Canoe Creek" never had the same ring to it). The mystical grove of pine trees surrounding the stone rock seemingly a perch for the fairies to hold their mysterious rituals called "Simgale" by my eldest brother. In the old days, hammocks were hung and summers were spent by me reading leisurely for hours or I played in the coolness of the shade.
In My Room!
My kitty, Jamocha (not so happy at the moment) and I.
I am particularly proud of the Beverly Hills, 90210 actresses behind me.
I was quite the fan-girl indeed!
I was quite the fan-girl indeed!
There is so much more I could say, too much to list here. It is enough to recall that each moment, although not able to be listed, is a valuable asset upon my soul. Beloved tv shows whose cast members are still loved today (Night Court, Beverly Hills 90210, Seinfeld, to name a few), my bedroom walls plastered with their images, movie nights with pizza for dinner....so many many moments...you might find a sticker still fixed upon one of the bedroom windows, if my parents' missed it in the cleaning (hopefully so), it's my gift left for you, a physical manifestation of my child soul still residing there with yours.
So, too, new residents I wish for you to build upon and form these new memories, with gratitude for the foundation that shaped me and the lessons that inspired my eternal emotional growth, I release this home to your loving and capable hands.
I ask as I entrust her to you that you cherish and nurture her well as I know she will do the very same for you.
I can see your face
In our secret place
You're not just a memory
Say goodbye to yesterday (the dream)
Those are words I'll never say (I'll never say)
So, what did you think? Got something to say? Feel free to comment below and I will respond.
The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions, Inc, a film and media company with the sole purpose of benefiting the world for the better. Support us at: www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions
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