THE OLD HOUSE

One late night as I drove down a lonely stretch of highway, my headlights hit on an old house standing alone in the dark moon light. I could tell the old house was empty, one could see the moon light shining through the uncovered windows. Pulling up off the highway I just stared at the empty house, for at one time as a young little boy I grew up in a home like this. Walking up to the house, my mind races to the younger days of my life, a life full of happiness. If this old house could talk, I wonder what stories it could tell me about those who dwelt within its walls.

Were their children running up and down the stairs? Did the halls echo with the sounds of music playing? Did the air inside smell of cooking? Did the house keep them warm during those cold windy winter nights? Did the floor creak with every step that was made in the stillness of the night?

Suddenly, a picture of a little girl forms in my head walking down the hallway in her mothers high heels shoes, wearing her mothers going to church hat. The long dress she wears is dragging the floor as she walks along. With every step she takes, she giggles, as she tries to keep her balance, hoping she would not fall.

There's a young boy sitting on the side of his bed playing a guitar as he tries singing in tune, which he seems to fail with every note played. His younger brother who is reading a book has earmuff stuffed with cotton to block out his brother singing.

The father sits quietly reading the evening paper as he puffs on his pipe that fills the air of blended pipe tobacco. With his feet propped up, he sits back and enjoys the moments of his life.

Mother is in the kitchen, her day not yet done. Stirred the pot of greens, flips the chicken as the grease starts popping. She stops for a second, looking out the window into the evening dust, wishing that for a moment she could be somewhere else besides in the kitchen.

Now, the moment flashes ahead by years. The little girl that once was walking in her mothers high heels is packing to leave for college. She stops long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes. She is happy to be leaving, but sad, because Mom and Dad would be alone in this big house.
The two boys are also leaving, but it's not college, but Europe to fight a war. The parents and daughter are proud, of both of them, but only one will return home.

The family is now gathered around there fathers bed, They bend over to kiss him bye. Old and beaten down, he draws his last breath of life, while his wife, daughter and son look on.

I see them packing the things in the house into a big truck. The Daughter starts to cry as she removes the last thing that was in the house. A candle in the window, they lit every night so the kids could always find a way back home. These are my memories I share with you, the house seemed to say to me. I hear a loud crashing sound of part of the old house falling, as though it was a tear drop.