I Wonder.....

I often wonder why houses are left to ruin. Even as a child I would look at abandoned houses and feel a sense of sadness for what once was. There was a house I would pass many times, both as a child and as an adult, that I can never remember ever seeing a light on in the windows or signs of life anywhere. But year by year I would watch the demise of this structure. There it stood with pealing paint, rotting wood, decaying mortar, windows broken either by vandalism or acts of nature and no one seemed to care. How I wanted to sing a requiem for the passing of this house that once was someone's home.

I wondered who may have lived there. How many meals were made in the kitchen and what aromas of homemade delicacies and fresh brewed coffee had been there drawing the inhabitants to its warmth. I wondered about the dining room and what holiday dinners were like and who was there to sample the turkey and hams and sweet potato pies with mounds of whipped cream. I wondered about the living room. Did it have a fireplace in it where corn would be popped on cold winder nights and stories would told to the children before going upstairs to bed. And what were the bedrooms like and how many was there. Did each child, if there were children, have their own rooms or did they need to share. Was there a sewing room for mom to make new clothes for the family and curtains for the windows. And, yes, there would be the master bedroom where mom and dad would have their private time to share and talk and explore the wonder of their love for each other. I wonder if that house knew the sound of laughter and feel the warmth of love. The way it stood in its darkness, who could tell the real story.

The years have passed and one day I saw something surrounding that house that I thought I would never see. It was the yellow caution tape of construction. My heart jumped to think that maybe someone had bought the property and would actually renovate it and restore it to its original charm. Little by little machinery began to remove dead trees. Weeds were removed giving a clear picture of what was under all the overgrowth of so many years. I almost thought I saw a lightness in its demeanor anticipating its renewal. I too was anxious to see what would happen. One day as I was driving past and looked to see what progress was being made I felt a cold chill. The house was gone! It was torn down. No trace of its ever having been there could be found. In its place was a prefabricated house with all the personality a cookie cutter home could muster. I didn't know which house I should feel more sadness for. Oh well, at least the weeds are gone.

Why write about this house? Because for me it was like a rite of passage. Something old was being torn down to make way for the new. As uncomfortable as the new may feel it is here to stay and the adjustment has to be made. I sense something old and familiar in me changing. Something is happening to make way for the new. I don't know what the new will be, but I will try to embrace it. One thing I do know for sure is that I will bring some of the old into the new. Past and future brought together to make a new thing of beauty and strength.

Will I sing a dirge of what was or what will be. Hmmmmm......