photo (7)

I’m closing the door and I’m not looking back… I think I’m going to cry, I can’t, my children are looking at me, they might get the wrong idea, they might think I don’t want to do this, that I don’t want to go and be a real, complete family…so, I’m closing the door…

And I did. I did not go back for two years. I visited town and drove by my house but did not stop. I did not want to look at my front yard. At my front door. I did not want to think about all I had left inside. I’m not talking about furniture or clothes or my children’s toys, I’m talking about memories and the feeling of home, of safety.

For the next two years I heard all kinds of stories of things happening in my house… anyone came and went, in and out my front door, taking out stuff and bringing some more in…someone fell down the stairs…everyone looked through my drawers… the front door I had locked shut had been opened many more times by several other people…and, from a far, I felt that each time someone opened the door to my house a beautiful memory escaped, flying out in search of its owners…little did it know that we were thousands of kilometers away in Mexico City.

My house full of memories was slowly emptying… I had left my memories there because I would be back in two years and they would be safe, behind that locked door, no one told me that door would open so many times before I came back…

A new family came to live in my house…they covered my daughter’s mural… they poked holes in every wall… and they started to make new memories where my old memories used to be…

Being away I felt like a plant which had been taken out of its pot…becoming, minute by minute, more desperate to feel some soil hugging my roots tightly, I was wilting and suffering…

a hummingbird in my front yard

The two years passed… We came back…I unlocked the door, the house was empty in every way…only shadows of what seemed a stranger’s memories were left: a rose wall, the dirt silhouette of some hangings on the walls, a green wall, a red wall, locks on cabinets… I did not care to try and put together the story of these people…we were back and we brought the sun back into our house to make those shadows disappear…Nothing remains of those days

Now, my house is my home…

Coming through my front door is entering my place of peace.

A heartfelt response to WPDaily Post Weekly Writing Challenge THROUGH THE DOOR


18 responses to “WP DP WC…THROUGH THE DOOR

  1. Pingback: Rosemary Has a Change of Plans | my cyber house rules·

  2. Oh Marie, thank you sooo much for your wonderful compliments on my blog’s design… I used to change the theme every few months, there was always a new one coming out, but this time, my blog theme has so many options for change without going to a new theme all together that I have just played around with it πŸ™‚ you know, now that you mention it, maybe that’s why it was so hard, it felt like a total disregard for my existence, as if I had left not just town but e face of this earth, it was very invasive… I learned so much from that experience about myself and my attachment to stuff, my sense of belonging and how I need for people to identify and respect my personal space… However, I’m glad it’s over (but not forgotten, wouldn’t want to trip on that rock again πŸ˜‰ …) so lovely of you to take the time to chat with me, read you soon, Alexandra

  3. This kind of made me think of when people pass away and how their homes and personal belongings get tromped through and handled by so many people. Things they loved and cherished lose all their meaning. Their homes become houses. Although the narrator did not pass away in your story, it just made me think of that.

    p.s. love love love the overall design and look & feel of your blog! The stripes are a keeper!

  4. May I say that reading how you got what I tried to express and in reality felt really makes my day πŸ™‚ although, I’m sorry for having made you feel this way… but still, THANK YOU!! Well, it was a mix of people, because we had to rent the house due to unexpected expenses… so between the renters and family members, my house turned into anyone’s terrain… I still feel a bit of sadness just to remember, that’s why I took advantage of the opportunity the Prompt presented… Please visit again, read you soon

  5. FLANGIPROP was great!!! i loved the creativity rush I felt from putting that post together…You are kind of a visionary/ fortune teller/ true believer…just wonderful abilities that (and here I’m going to quote you again) JUST MAKE YOU UNIQUE!! πŸ™‚

  6. Wow, I felt very anxious for your memories and things you left behind….and who were those people who walked and lived so carelessly over your things? Great piece of writing.

  7. That piece was a classic too, my dear friend.
    I don’t do anything special, apart from confessing what I believe. Funny enough, what I believe comes true or just turns out to be true.
    I always believe that you can do a whole lot, and it has always turned out so! πŸ™‚
    Thanks for those lovely compliments. I’m all smiles!

  8. Hey…Teecee!! I just remembered that super funny post about FLANGIPROP… jajajaaa that was totally made up! It was sooo much fun writing that one… Teecee, you are always right on spot…how do you do it?

  9. You have all it takes to do whatever it is you want to do. Try your hands on one and see how it goes. You’ve got more skill and talent than you think possible.
    Trust me on this.
    You are welcome, my dear friend! πŸ™‚

  10. You are too kind Teecee πŸ™‚ thank you… I wish I had the talent to write about things that have not happened… Or maybe those fall into my hypothetically speaking posts… Take care my dear friend

  11. Alexandra, having moved last year, I resonate very much with that process of going through the door to home. Having a home is very different than owning a house. I’ve been enjoying making my house a home so much for the last year, it has brought me a great deal of peace. So glad to hear that you are enjoying your home too! πŸ™‚

  12. Letting go and moving on can feel a bit like betrayal sometimes. It’s not. That’s life. πŸ™‚

FEED THE BLOG...say something nice!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s