Time

Memaw died a few months back. I still haven't removed her from my address book. I see her name in there from time to time and I always pause for just a moment and remember that she's really gone.

This week I took a few days off work and my best friend from high school came to visit. Until a few months ago, I hadn't seen or spoken with her in about twelve years. It was a little strange reconnecting, but I have to say I found it extremely comfortable and easy, as if no time had passed at all. Sometimes after a good laugh an easy lull would settle between us. I'd look at her, smile, and think back on moments long passed. I dug out an old photo album and found some good ones of us being silly on the beach one day when we were about 18 years old. We looked like kids, and the whole world still lay before us.

I had some great conversations with my old friend. Among much else, we talked about the other people we knew in high school, where they are now and how so many people never really leave home. All her family, for example, still live and work within a few miles of where they've always lived and worked. Except for me living 1,000 miles away in Colorado, my family is no different.

Tonight I found Memaw's house back in Texas listed for sale online. There are pictures both inside and out. I took a virtual tour of a house I know intimately. Most of the furniture was gone but some pictures and other objects remained. There were no people in the photos. No laughter. No birthday or holiday celebrations, no grandchildren running around, no pies in the oven. Pawpaw's garden is just a memory now paved over with a carpet of grass. It's just an ordinary country house waiting to be sold to the highest bidder, all the living memories now only ghosts in my mind. I never thought about it before, but it seems that a home can die too.

Just as I was about to sign off, I noticed the realtor selling the house was a childhood friend of my brother. I think he was about 7 years old the last time I saw him. Now he's wearing a big grin and trying to pawn off Memaw & Pawpaw's house.

I'm glad I got out of there and built my own life far away. My life is good and I'm getting everything I've sought. But I often think of friends and family long gone, plucked from my life by neglect, erosion or death. More often than you might suppose, I dream of youthful parents, the home I grew up in, and the arms that held me and encouraged me to find my road in the world. I sometimes long to be there, among familiar faces and comfortable places. I guess some people never really leave.