Tuesday, August 28, 2007



So this weekend I dropped Tom off at the airport so he could fly away and take care of some family business in far-off California.

I am unofficially on a vacation, myself. Well, of sorts.

On my way home from the airport (driving the long, scenic back route, of course), I bought coffee and sang along with Carrie Underwood and felt light of heart, even though I was headed home for two hours of cleaning before the real estate lady arrived for the open house. Amazingly, I looked forward to cleaning house that day. (Can't figure that one out, myself.)

Anyway, nearing home, I stopped at an estate sale inside a house where time stood still decades ago. The home, obviously, had been decorated in the late 1960's and then left mostly unchanged.

I love it when that happens.

I stepped from vintage-papered-room to vintage-papered-room, smiling, letting myself slip backward four decades and getting a little lost in mind and body. It was a smallish two-story house, but the type where rooms appeared in odd places, like a surprise, and your eyes fell upon boxes of Modern Miss magazines from 1967 or the tops of beds with gauzy scarves and black fake leather purses beside hat boxes and green formals.

It was the type of house where you could picture daughters in the fluorescent-pink upstairs bedroom buttoning their mini-skirts and putting on thick layers of mascara. It was the type of house where possessions were cared for, treasured and appreciated.

So in a retro fog I drove away, inspired, more anxious than ever to return to my own home, my cozy Craftsman bungalow, to care for what I've been given, making it presentable and sweet for those who would soon walk through my own rooms, wondering what kind of lives had been lived here... wondering if they'd like to create a life inside these walls and windows, themselves.

So much living goes on inside a house. So much living goes on inside of ourselves, where we create memories daily... and may I consciously choose to create peaceful memories I'll cherish seasons far away from now, when everything has changed, not ones I'll pray to forget.


***

Psalm 37:11
"But the meek will inherit the land
and enjoy great peace."

3 comments:

Kathy said...

Debra, I love your last paragraph...I'm going to write it down so I won't forget it! I really love that, it's my prayer too :o) Hope all goes well with the showing and selling of your lovely home...God Bless!

~Jennifer said...

Mmm, my grandma's houses are like that. When I visit them I slip back in time. It's not always a comfortable thing because it reminds me how much time has passed and how quickly it goes by.

Debra said...

Kathy--thanks! (And thanks for your emails, too). :)
Jennifer--Wish I could visit your grandmother's house! :)
Thanks, Ladies... Blessings, Debra