Flood of Memories

It's in a pile now. A rubbish heap.
It is garbage bags of clothes, pillows, toys, and life drowned and forgotten.
Piles of things that are not just things.

It was the excitement of house shopping. Dreams of the life that would be crafted there.
The day the papers were signed, the new key, the excitement of a new house.

It was the couch that was home of a thousand snuggles, where cancer didn't last tears and laughter.
The place where the family knitting was crafted.

It was the kitchen sink where big hands and little hands washed themselves.
The new lessons of dishes washed and dried while singing silly songs.

It was a kitchen full of hundreds of meals cooked, crock pots and ovens.
The sounds of mom and dad and brother and sister creating.

It was the stove where hundreds of dinners were prepared with love and butter.
The hearth of a modern life.

It was the carpet lovingly scrubbed of dirt, oops spills, and shoes in from a hard day's work.
The comfort beneath our feet, giving us life to step into.

It was the walls that heard the fights, the hugs, the lovemaking, the home fires waiting for kids.
The sounds of a world that was ours, our home.

It smelled like cookies after school, pets beloved, fall candles, baby powder and new love.
The aroma of family, of memories that will never leave us.

It was the table gathered around to play games, read mom's bible, pray, and drink coffee.
The place of gathering, the memory of science fairs and Saturday brunches.

It was movie nights, friends for dinner, cuddles with the children.
It was good days and bad days. And boring mundane days.

It was spring cleaning day when you open the windows to let the air blow through.
The memories of complaining about cleaning, the learning of new tasks.

It was the bathroom where band-aids and medicine held memories of healing.
The place where chemo ruined days, fevers met their match and baby baths full of memory.

It was the bed bought to create a new life together, the bed for the newest addition to the family.
The rest of life, the sleep of peace where we knew were safe.

It was the bookshelf full of tattered, favorite books, books that were waiting to be picked up.
The learning, the memories of books to read together or the ones we love alone.

It was a pile of rubbish now.

Just things to be replaced, but not just things.


Flood waters steal a life in tearing through the things.
All the things that were.

Restoration will come.

There will be more game nights, more dinners around a new table.
There will be more movie nights snuggled on a new couch.
There will be new walls that hold the sounds and smells of life after....


The memory of what was....

It's just a pile now.
We will remember always.

photo credit: S. Garris, Friendwood, TX 2017


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