A valentine for the homestead
This Valentines’s Day couples will share romantic evenings and kids will exchange valentines at school parties.
Husbands will bring home flowers and restaurants will be full.
But this year I’d like to give a special valentine.
A valentine written for my family home and the neighborhood I grew up in.
Valentines express love and I have a lot of love for that old house.
I remember the front door steps where my mother stood and yelled for my brother and I to come home for lunch.
I remember the empty lot where we used to play baseball.
If you could hit the ball to the last tree on the lot, you had a double. If it flew across the street and landed in the Demarb’s driveway, you had yourself a home run.
I remember the neighborhood grocery store where mom would send me for a loaf of bread. I also remember her yelling at me when I got home for twirling it like a propellor on the way home.
I remember all the family meals around the kitchen table. Going to a restaurant was a special treat and not something that happened all the time.
I could go on and on in this special valentine.
That house and neighborhood hold a lot of memories for me and I visit those memories often.
You’d think by now they wouldn’t mean so much, but oh how I’d love to go back for a day and come flying into the yard on my bicycle, run into the house, and mom would be there waiting with a sandwich for lunch.
I still love that old broken down home and the neighborhood where I lived my childhood.
It’s all changed now.
The houses are boarded up or falling down. The businesses are long gone.
But when I close my eyes they’re still there.
Maybe my dreams will take me on a visit tonight.
I sure hope so.
See you out there.