Farewell Childhood Home
Your echos of love and memories will always burn bright
Clad in copper,
jagged and weathered,
tattered from years’ caress.
Attached to me is an unbreakable tie.
It opened the chapter of my childhood haven.
Where joy once danced and glee sang sweetly.
The tidal wave of tears had flowed profusely.
To bid adieu to yet another chapter.
It’s a tale of recent tragedies.
Of loss of Mother and father, and now the house I hold dear.
The tethers are worn thin,
I can no longer maintain my hold.
Another wave of sorrow,
a relentless dark sea,
trying to swallow me.
Standing in the distance, I listen and observe.
As another family arrives
to make it their own.
It’s an ache that is just too much to bear.
Oh grief, when will you leave my mind?
Can’t the goodbyes fly away, like dandelion seeds
carried on the peaceful breeze?
My pounding heart, a never-ending drum roll.
My tears trail like an ever-flowing fountain.
To surrender my key is to lay down my emotions.
My Mother’s soul took flight there.
A home where I said many goodbyes.
It is time to bid farewell to the days of old.
My cup runs over with sadness,
like a never-ending waterfall.
A signature on a page, and it will be all over.
New owners will take over like a tide wave.
The setting sunset will be the final goodbye.
Life comes knocking, and we must answer.
Turn the page to a new chapter,
a last word of goodbye,
to my cherished childhood dwell.
Its mighty blow will pierce my heart.
But I will heal my bleeding soul.
For I have something up my sleeve
that life can not behold.
The memories of the sap grassy carpet,
High ceiling, red brick fireplace,
a desert room, yes that was its name.
Family tales of laughter and love.
Water splashing in a natural pool.
Sweet and savory dishes of holiday memories.
A long barn echoed hello as I walked through.
Singing to my parents and happy echos of reply.
The key is ready to move on,
the door is sealed shut.
But a new awaits; just walk through the adult door.
A future that has no parents or childhood home.
Yet, it’s a future that calls out for happier days ahead.
It’s time to heal and embrace what is coming next.
Hold my memories close to my beating heart;
it will heal my soul.
Thank you for reading.
This was original posted on Medium.
Comments (1)
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child. The only home I knew growing up & to which I always returned from school, sold. The grade school I attended abandoned. The junior high buildings torn down. The college is now a federal penitentiary & the seminary has moved from its place in the inner city of Kansas City between poor black & poor white neighborhoods has moved out to Church of the Resurrection in Leawood, Kansas--Johnson County, with the highest per capita income in the state of Kansas. My wife & I have served as itinerate ministers in The United Methodist Church since seminary, living in parsonages. There is no place for us to call home anymore. She'll turn 61 this year. I'll turn 65. We do both wonder what the future holds.