The House that Built Me

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it,
This brokenness inside of me might start healing,
Out here it's like I'm someone else,
I thought maybe I could find myself,
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave,
Won't take nothin but a memory,
From the house that built me. - miranda lambert

It sat on the corner of Sharon Lane and Tinker Street. A trampoline with blue and green mats sat in the side yard, and the front windows overlooked the street. Trees were scattered throughout the yard, but left just enough room to run with open arms. And it always had plenty of leaves in the fall to build a mound so we could jump in them. It was often described as "homey" and pictures filled the hallways and bookshelves. It had our ecclectic spin on it with big red doors and bathroom wallpaper made out of brown paper bags. (really cute I promise). You could always find flowers blooming on the front porch and under the deck where my mom kept her garden. Hidden under the stairs was my get-a-way hiding place. I could go there if I was on a hidden mission when I was younger. My friends and I would often get kicked out by my Granddaddy because we were giggling too loud or doing stuff we shouldnt have been doing. My favorite time at our house was Christmas time. I remember each and every decoration, where it went, and how it needed to be placed just right on the shelves. The lights twirling around the staircase reminded me of a Christmas Wonderland and I couldn't wait each year so that we could decorate. Would it be crazy if I knocked on the door to ask if I could look around? I really have thought about it.... maybe one day.

I can very much relate to this song. I often use songs as my inspiration. I think it is because I love music so much. I might not know every artist or every song they sing, but I know that music makes me feel good. Music can calm my soul, music can make me cry, and music always warms my heart. I am a sucker for sappy love songs. A big sucker for acoustic, and head over heels in love with john mayer. Obsessed, in love, all the same in my book. ;) not really of course. Yes, I love john mayer, no about that second half of the statement. Okay, back to the song. We moved to hueytown, home of the golden gophers (and yes I said all of that right) way back when in 1990. I was 3 years old. I shared the back room with my sister who was 8 at the time. Sorry sister, I can only imagine how much fun that was. We had extra rooms downstairs, but my Granddaddy lived with us. And that was okay too. I loved him. I often took for granted that house. But many life lessons were learned there. Many hugs were given, and a lot of love was grown. Love ended, tears were shed, but it always made us stronger. I didn't learn how to play guitar in the back bedroom. The back bedroom is where I slept and I still haven't learned to play the guitar. But my first dog was buried in that back yard. We always had animals, multiple animals at our house. So I remember when I got to call my first dog my own. All I remember his name was Dillie. And I remember coming home one day to find another one of the dogs had gotten a hold of Dillie before we got back. Dillie didn't make it. Burying him in the back yard was no easy task, but life went on in the big brick house. A lot of my friends lived down the street so it was nothing to pull out the bicycles and cruise the open trails, before they were sold and houses planted on them. We had tree houses, secret clubs, and even a little business where my favorite twins and I sold stationary. It didn't last very long, but we were happy with that. I loved being that close to everyone, and knowing that everyone has moved away, has completely different lives is heartbreaking at times. That old house is still there, with a new family, and new memories being made. I know my memories are forever imprinted in the heart of that house and I will always remember the house that built me.