Today
I couldn’t help but think about my grandmom’s old house in Ocean City, New
Jersey. I remember visiting her multiple times every summer and, on occasion,
staying in the extra bedroom. When time came to sell the house, I remember not
wanting to even drive by there anymore. It wasn’t the same without her there.
It was nothing more than a simple structure. The memories are what made a
special place.
While
today was a completely different situation altogether, I couldn’t keep that
memory from coming to the surface. I also couldn’t help but think about the
many times my wife and I would drive up the hill to her mother’s house and
begin walking down the path waiting for the dogs to start barking. It is
interesting the memories that are the most vivid. Of course there are others
but some memories need to be kept inside for a while before sharing them as
stories.
This
was just my thought process. Throughout my work day I kept thinking about my
wife and all that she has had to deal with over these last several months. I
can’t imagine what was going through my wife’s mind today. It is one of those
times when saying “I know how it feels” or “I know what you are going through”
would be wildly inappropriate. I have no idea what this has been like and I
have no inkling of what memories have been brought to the surface today.
The
only think that I know is that a place that was once part of our normal weekly
routine has become a memory. What made that place special lives on in our minds
but, for me, the place itself is now just a house. Maybe this seems cold to
some but it is how I deal with it. It is a process that works for me regardless
of how imperfect it may be. It is also one that I can’t expect will work for
others. This is why I will not drive by the house just for the heck of it.
With
that said, I look at that house in my mind and wish that our son was able to
experience the same happiness that once filled the vast space within those
walls. However, those memories will certainly live on in the stories that we
will be telling our son throughout his life. But, for now, those memories will
remain in my mind as we continue through this whole process. Besides, I’m not
the right person to be telling him those stories anyway.
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