While cleaning out a closet today, I found a five page memoir that my mother had written about the home that she grew up in.
Today, I write this blog post for my parents. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising me in a loving home.
That’s me in the picture above with my first and best friend, Rusty, playing in our front yard.
1 Keen Court was the address of my learning laboratory. It was a small lab; there were only two houses on our street.
I learned how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to play baseball, how to fish, how to climb a tree, how to make friends, how to drive a car, and how to deal with living in “the friend zone” (high school – ’nuff said.)
My family of seven would gather around the dinner table as my father said Grace before we enjoyed my mother’s home cooking. No tv, radio, or cell phones. Just family.
I never saw or heard my parents raise their voice, have an argument, or fight with one another. I only saw love.
I learned how to love pets in that home. I learned how to say goodbye to pets in that home.
I witnessed how a community, in fact an entire town, came together when a high school classmate and family friend died.
Like a prodigal son, I returned to the loving embrace of my home to heal after a relationship I had in college went sour.
The simple three bedroom ranch, with a three bedroom addition, was not just a house. And Enfield, Connecticut will never just be the town where my house was built.
It was where my heart was. It was where my home was. I will forever get goose bumps whenever I return to my hometown.
Cathy and I have lived in this house for 15 years. We have made it a home for our children: currently 4 dogs and 4 dogs.
This home is watched over by our angels: Albert, Steele, Kanga, Allie (dogs) and Cousteau, Little Guy, and Marcy (cats.)
A house can be destroyed by fire, a hurricane, or a tornado. We can sell houses. We can move to a new town, a new state, or a new country.
But, my parents taught me that a home is forever!
Be Kind. Be Thankful. Be Significant.
Peter
