Print Story The House on the Dead End Road
Diary
By Gedvondur (Mon Jul 19, 2021 at 01:57:21 PM EST) Memory (all tags)
 A memory, not particularly cheerful, so skip if you are feeling down.


I remember standing outside my grandparent’s house up on the hill, looking over at the neighbor’s place, about 200 yards down and across the road.

It’s summer, just after lunch. The sun is out, with only a few high wispy clouds in the sky. A breeze is in the air, the smell of growing corn and alfalfa clover mixed with my grandfather’s fresh-cut lawn. There is white clover and little yellow trefoil flowers in the grass that have escaped the blade.

To my left is the old barn my grandfather used to own for his dairy farm. The neighbor owns it now, uses it now for rabbit hutches and assorted junk. I put my head back and close my eyes. I spread my arms, lifting them up as in supplication. I feel almost as if I’m rising from the ground, the wind pushing steadily at me. The huge willow tree next to the house was rustling strongly. In my mind its thousand of little black birds murmating across the sky and around me, like the sparrows do.

The feeling of flying grows stronger and I feel almost dizzy, holding my breath all the way in. I begin to feel myself sway, and the feeling of flying passes. I open my eyes and exhale, the moment past. I glance at the house, my grandmother is looking out of the wooden front screen door, checking to make sure I’m okay. She’s wearing her turquoise blouse, with something….embroidered in it. I can’t remember if its flowers or something else. I hear my grandfather pulling his lawnmower up to their outside garage after cutting the grass in the orchard out back. Within two years, Grandma will be gone. Within seven, Grandpa will have to sell the house, with the field next to it and the orchard in the back. Soon after he’ll be gone too. I never again went back up the little dead-end road where their house was. I can’t stand to see the changes. I want it as I remember it, not as others have made it to be.

In my mind Grandma is still sitting at the table smoking a cigarette watching the trees in the orchard out back while something is cooking on the stove. Grandpa is still in the detached garage, fixing something and occasionally swearing out loud.

An innocent moment, one I cannot get out of my head. A time while I was awake enough to drink in the feeling, but not yet old enough to know worry or fear. Sometimes, when I’m out of the city and in the country, the wind blows in the sunshine, and I can close my eyes for just a sweet moment be there again, innocent, happy and safe.

 
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The House on the Dead End Road | 5 comments (5 topical, 0 hidden)
sigh by dev trash (4.00 / 1) #1 Mon Jul 19, 2021 at 05:33:13 PM EST
I've not been back to the 'homestead' since they sold everything and the house barn and trailer were demolished.

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I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR BALLS! ->clock
House I grew up in by wiredog (4.00 / 1) #2 Tue Jul 20, 2021 at 04:57:56 AM EST
Still there. Still some people living on the street who were there when I grew up, including a guy that moved back after he got married.

Earth First!
(We can strip mine the rest later.)

[ Parent ]
Still around by Gedvondur (2.00 / 0) #4 Tue Jul 20, 2021 at 09:46:35 AM EST
I see my old neighbors from the house I grew up in from time to time, they sell yard figurines/statues and assorted crafty stuff at the farmer's market every week. Its a little weird, but they were a big part of my youth.


[ Parent ]
I know the feeling by Gedvondur (2.00 / 0) #3 Tue Jul 20, 2021 at 09:45:12 AM EST
I just don't want to go back.

Weirdly, I don't feel the same about the house I grew up in.


[ Parent ]
last family member by sasquatchan (4.00 / 1) #5 Wed Jul 21, 2021 at 10:15:27 AM EST
sold their house in 2020..  Used to be 60 acres or so, and had 6 houses -- grand parents, aunts, cousins .. now, all strangers ..

The House on the Dead End Road | 5 comments (5 topical, 0 hidden)