Losing a piece of me

Well, the news hit today like a two ton heavy thing. Mom and Dad are selling their home, my home. Where I spent most of my childhood and adult life. I was married in that house. My first child was born and lived in that house. It is a piece of me that someone else will be living in. There will be no reason to go back to SLC. I am lost. I am feeling a loss.
When we moved to that house Dad planted a blue spruce. It was short, fat and we never dreamed it would grow. Over the years that tree grew and grew. I would put christmas tree lights on it and after several year...i could not reach the top. Then we had to pull it out. It got to big. I cried. It was a beautful tree, one that saw so much of my life.

Growing up in that house was an adventure. When we moved in I "shared" a bedroom with my sister. She was at the University of Utah and probably slept there ten times in those first few years in that house. Mom and Dad got tired of their small bed and kicked me out. Not really. It just became apparent that they needed more room than I did. We switched bedrooms. My brother always had the bedroom downstairs. It was a weird, dark and scary place. I always thought it was overrun with spiders. So, I would never want to stay down there. For years I had the room off the kitchen. It was a noisy room but it was mine. I would watch tv on mom and dad's kingsize bed and when it was time for bed...I would race Maggie the family dog. She would sit by my dad...i would walk about half way there. Dad would say, on your mark, get set, go! I would run for dear life and Maggie would be in hot pursuit. I would leap onto the bed, Maggie would jump up and go for my face trying as best she could to kiss it. It was a great way to go to bed.

Several years later my brother moved out and I realized that downstairs bedroom was a lot better than the one I had. First of all it had a full walk in closet. I could put a twin bed in there. i would have total privacy instead of sharing a bathroom with Daddy. When we decided I would move downstairs I actaully got to pick put wallpaper. We had red, red carpet. Not a lot went with that carpet. I finally found one that I liked. It was a small print of strawberries and the vines they were on. At the time I felt I had picked a pattern that was adult. Now I look at it and cringe. Actaully it is not bad and we had a ton of fun adding to it. I started to get a lot of Strawberry Shortcake items that fit the theme. I loved rearranging the room whenever I felt like it. Mom and Dad rarely came down. The privacy thing was amazing. It was as if I lived in my own apartment. i never had to share a bathroom until company came. Then the basement became hotel central. I still loved it. I had friends that loved coming over and playing Atari, playing the pool table. It was a great place to grow up. I tried once or twice to sneak out but fear took over. i could never climb out of that basement window. It was a lot deeper than it looked.

The piano was behind a small wall. i could easily torment my brother as he played. i loved to run by and try and close the piano as he played. When I tried...he would stop and stand up. He would become stiff, and call out " Find, kill, destroy!" i would scream. he would chase me and mom would always ask, "what did you do?". For years I tinkered on that piano. John was a much better pianist than i was but I liked to think I was pretty good. I dreamed of playing a big concert for a lot of people but I did not have the gift.

The kitchen was always the heartbeat of the house. We found out Cathy was pregnant for the first time when she fainted and hit her head on the stove. Lots of laughter came from that room and many nights of really great food. When my son was born, we would place a thick quilt on the kitchen counter and lay him down. Mom would watch with intensity as he would coo and turn. I would cook dinner and our main attention was on Anthony.

We had wedding showers for Cathy, baby showers for Tony, so many friends and family. I know it is just a home but it was my home. One that now I will never go back to. There won't be a reason to go back. There is no more tie to SLC for me. No reason to go back to my old church were many of my friends still are. Why am i such a baby about all of this? It is just a house. We were not the first ones there but we were the longest residents. It is our home. I am sure that is how my children feel about our present home.

I still feel a bit of loss knowing that I won't be in that house anymore. It is sad and a longing that in time will go away. Bye SLC!