THE HOUSE.....

for Armande........

"Home is where love resides, memories are created,  friends always belong, and laughter never ends..,"- George Moore

And yes, it was a gentle house. A wonderful house. A place where music lived. Of love. Of home away from home. And the house knew me. It will always know me and I will know it, in my heart. I remember all that has ever been, or ever has been in this place. For wherever I shall be in this world, I  will always feel that here I was  home. Truly home.

Children  grew up here. Splashed spaghetti sauce  in the sink, made volcanoes, and  made play dough.  The house let them paint on  its walls. It didn't mind.

There were concerts on hot June nights. Thunderous applause . Parents  dressed to the  nines. Wine and Cheese. Overflowing tables. Overflowing joy. Long into the night, till the last child had played  a song. The piano didn't mind. 

Till the last child  fell asleep in the arms of its father. Off into the night. The house breathed a sigh of relief.  Summer holidays  at last.  

The years flew by.  The house stood as it always had. Its friends, the willow trees whispered magic into the air. Telling stories to the night sky.

Skies burnished with sunsets  so beautiful that the house never tired of seeing them.

The house remembered kitchen tables loaded with goodies.  Angel food cake, smothered in chocolate cream. Banana Chocolate cake . Just a taste. Just a morsel. Who would get to lick the chocolate cream beaters first? 

The years sped by, ricocheting against the clouds. Every precious moment swirled by and the house saw it all. 

Every Christmas, the house was decorated in baubles , angel hair and beads. Porcelain angels sang their quiet songs from rafters high. Records played. Carols were sung as the piano roared to life. The piano didn't mind.

And the house sang along.

The children who came , were adults  with homes of their own. But they  did not forget the house they used to roam. They now  brought their children , who roamed its wondrous halls.

The house smiled. For it had missed children in its arms. Its world came alive.

The house watched as they played under the weeping willow who had grown so tall and mighty. The willow gathered them up like feathers and they danced.

Sunrises came and went like morning rain. The grass was mowed, the trees were trimmed. The house looked at its best. It felt change in the air.  It held its breath.

Then it was time for the house to say goodbye. Shadows fell. It was silent. It waited for the new dawn. For it was coming.

The world was beautiful to the house. It saw the glory of the morning, as the people touched its walls. Said goodbye one last time. Each one felt a  longing. They hesitated then the door opened and they stepped through to the world beyond.

And we, and there have been so many of us, who have been here, feel our hearts beat as one. Here in the house with the willows singing to the moon. I could hear them, as I left my heart at the threshold. Then I also stepped through the door and said goodbye.

And yes, it was a gentle house. A wonderful house. A place where music lived. Of love. Of home away from home. And the house knew me. It will always know me and I will know it, in my heart. I remember all that has ever been, or ever has been in this place. For wherever I shall be in this world, I  will always feel that here I was  home. Truly home.

 Photographs 2023