by Amy LV
Lately I have been thinking about houses and moving and change. This past month, my childhood home sold, and so it's likely that we will never go back there again. Thinking about the closet where I used to play elevator, the secret spots where my sister and I once hid Easter eggs, and the wood stove where we warmed bare tootsies, I am both happy and sad.
My Childhood Home - 328 Burd Drive
Photo by Amy LV
I'm a grown up now, and my own family has had two homes. We lived in the first one when our children were tiny, and this one once they past toddlerhood. When we moved to Heart Rock Farm, I thought about the "baby memories" that we were leaving behind in our first home, that little brick ranch. I wondered if I would miss the memory-ghosts, if the echoes of our little ones would be stuck in that house, not knowing how to follow us.
Students - it may seem strange that I wonder "if memories get stuck" or "if we can hear ancient voices when the light tilts just so." But I am fascinated by how time and space cross each other over and over through generations. At one time, a Native American family may have lived on this land. I know for sure that the previous owners of our home married in our living room. And I wonder if I squinted my eyes just right on a perfect day, if I could be right there back again, watching the ceremony. Will someone hear my husband's voice laughing one day...one hundred years from now...on this very spot?
When we write, sometimes it helps to let our minds relax and accept what might seem like unusual ideas. Sometimes it's good and healthy just to close your eyes and listen to the quiet of your own trail of thoughts. One will lead to another, and you might make surprising connections. Yes, they might feel strange at first, but keep listening.
If you are moving or thinking about moving or interested in the feelings around moving, don't miss Ralph Fletcher's poetry book, MOVING DAY.
Irene is hosting today's Poetry Friday buffet over at Live. Love. Explore!
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