Let me die now. This is heaven. It’s early afternoon, the sun hanging just above the trees. The summer air is hazy and yellow. A gentle breeze blows through the trees. Long shadows cast on the wall. This lazy world in sepia. If I die this very moment, the traces of this world will be eternal, and I may never have to leave here. I close my eyes, and the last thing I see is my image frozen like a Polaroid photograph.
This tiny house has a whole host of problems: old windows. bad insulation. the pipes in the basement overflow when you do laundry and dishes at the same time. weeds in the front of the house. a horrible bathroom with awful wallpaper and a decrepit shower. uneven grass in the backyard.
One day we will move to a bigger place. We will be happy with more room, more convenience, and fewer problems. That’s why we’re moving. And when we drive down the street from this house, we will cry. We will tell each other that this was where we raised our kids when they were little. Behind us.
That stupid white floor in the kitchen. Who the hell put a white floor in a kitchen? What a masochist. Do you know how awful it is to have a white floor in a kitchen with small children? We wash this floor every other day and it’s still gross. Whoever came up with this idea deserves life in prison.
But this is where we were a family. This is where our kids were little. This is where we were exhausted after bringing home a newborn from the hospital. This is where one kid hung himself with a towel and ripped the towel rack off the wall. Where another kid ripped away the awful wallpaper. Where one kid scribbled all over our closet with colored pencils while we got ready in the morning. Where the backyard was dirty and muddy and toys strewn everywhere. How did they keep their toys out of the garage?
A home where there were constant fights and tears in our kids’ rooms every night. A home where one of us would always have to go back in three or four times to tell our kids to stay in bed until they gave up. A home where our kids would ask us every question as if we knew all the answers. A home where we were too tired and busy to notice how quickly time was passing. Time just flew by.
There is no other place to keep these memories. This silly little house is it. This is the place of our memories. This is our heaven, but we don’t really know it.
