You can't go home again

Miranda Lambert -- The House That Built Me. Listen to it.

This song has a lot of significance for me. It's more than a country song to me, it's words with meaning that touch me very deeply. It's about a woman that goes to her childhood home to reconnect, and relive her memories. Those that know me, know that I don't let things go easily, and I don't really care for change. I was raised in the same house until I moved out to go to college at 17. That's a lot of memories to sort through!

Even more significant, is that my parents have finally put the old homestead on the market. Needless to say, I didn't take that news well. It felt like a dagger had been shoved into my heart. That's MY house! I don't want some other family living there, eating in my kitchen, playing in my room, or running around in my forest. Bastards! That was my initial reaction. I was so upset and angry about their choice. I want this house to be ours forever. It's OURS! Everyone knows the Shannon family resides in the huge house on top of the steep hill, on top of another steep hill. It's ours!

After my initial reaction, I started thinking. I tried to understand their reasons. While the house was such a huge part in their lives, they have to move onto the next phase of their lives (AKA Mexico and retirement!) and they certainly aren't as young as they used to be. The Shannon Manor requires a LOT of upkeep, inside and out. It's a constant project. And when it snows, it SNOWS! I remember getting a snow day, and my brother and I would be SO happy...then pops shows up with shovels. Dammit. So ok, it's hard to keep up with. I understand that. And while our house was deemed a great party house, and the holiday decor was exquisite, it was also very expensive.

I'm starting to realize more and more that a house is a house. It's the people inside it that make it a home. I am fortunate enough the house has been around long enough for me to take my own daughter to visit! She slept in my old room, played with some of my old toys, played in my fort, ran around my woods. That's what it's all about. Making memories! The house doesn't have memories of us, but we sure have memories of it. I will always have the memories, the smells, the noises, the good times and bad in that house. Good old 19415 Old Fort Lane (or for those that knew my dad...renamed it Old Fart Lane.). I have pictures of it. It will always be MY house and no one can sell my memories of it, or the images I have in my heart and mind. And while it's still very hard for me to let go, I realize more and more, as I raise my own child, that our house needs a new family in it to make their own memories. It's a great house! It was an epic house to play hide and seek in, to make forts in, slide down the stairs on a sleeping bag in, and just LIVE. And let's not forget the breathtaking views of the Rocky Mountains...especially Pike's Peak. I was fortunate enough to see that view everyday. To witness nature's majesty from my own deck is pretty amazing.

You can go home, but you can't go home again. You can visit, but it will never be the same home you grew up in. Things change, people change, life changes...

I will always love the house that built me.