We have decided to put our house in
Louisiana back on the market. For
the first time in years, while talking about it, the thought of selling our
former home gave me a sentimental reaction. I have many happy memories in that house. It was the first house I could truly
call mine. I raised my kids in
that house. We had so many family
gatherings for holidays or birthdays in that house. There were also many crawfish boils and New Year’s Eve parties, all in that house, our home.
It’s funny; when we moved to Tennessee
we thought we would have a similar life here. I knew it wouldn’t be the same but hoped it would over time
be, like I said similar. Maybe it
would have been if we hadn’t lost Madison. That’s where the sentimentality comes from. Don’t get me wrong Mark and I have
always been, for the most part homebodies, we just miss our family a lot, and
Madison just loved our home in Tickfaw Louisiana so much. She loved being there because it’s
where she felt the most comfortable.
For a girl who lived in almost constant physical pain, comfort was a
very important thing. I do think
she was starting to really like our home in Tennessee too.
I keep telling Mark, and myself,
that the memories are in our head not the house. But that’s not entirely true, is it? Every inch of that house has a memory
for those of us who lived there; after all we spent almost 23 years in it.
The year 2009 over shadowed all the
good memories for me for a long time.
That house in Tickfaw became like an, “albatross,” around my neck. There was so much to do once we decided
to move to Tennessee; also Madison was having a very difficult recovery after
surgery in December 2008. So
instead of focusing most of my time on caring for my kids, my energy felt
severely fractured. Of coarse the
kids came first, I just felt like I couldn’t stop. Mark had already moved to TN and was dealing with unforeseen
dilemmas. Madison was hospitalized
for a month in March 2009 and other family issues weighed heavily on us as
well. All those little projects
that we put off were now glaring at us as stumbling blocks to selling the
house. I don’t know what we would
have done without the help of family and friends, especially Cynthia, Murray
and Murray III. Finally by August
2009 we got most everything done and put it on the market. We did all we could do, so we thought,
but the house didn’t sell.
I began to hate that house after we
lost Madison in October 2009. I
saw all the time I had to spend on it in those last few months as stolen time
from my children especially Madison.
I began to resent the fact that I had to spend so much energy on that
house when I should have been more focused on being with my sick child. But I guess it’s really our own fault
for all that work we had to do in the end. We should have kept up with all the little issues as they
happened and not put them off for later.
Later came too quick, or maybe we just procrastinated too long. So for years I could not look
fondly on the place.
Now however, I guess time has
mellowed my feelings toward my former home. It has been almost four years and my anger has started to
subside. Now, when I think of
never going back there if it sells this time, I get a bit sad. I don’t think I could ever live there
again though, because even now the happy memories make me sad.
I will always remember finding
Madison laying in a pile of raked leaves like it was a nest, so sweet Next to her in another pile was our
rottweiler Duchess, whom Madison adored.
I remember Derric at the age of one, in the front yard, being tackled by
Duchess’ puppies, so cute. I
remember Dallas jumping into the swimming pool, as she would catch a football
that Mark threw her. She was so
cute and she rarely missed. I
remember knowing exactly who was walking down the very long hallway by the
sound of their footsteps, weather they had 2 feet or 4. I remember so much and don’t want to
ever forget. So when the house
does sell, eventually, I will have to rely on my many photos to jog my memory,
instead of the walls of my former home.
I will keep reminding myself that the memories are in my head and heart
not just in the walls.
.
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