Moving Memories

My parents have sold their house. Don’t worry, this isn’t going to turn into one of those sitcom episodes where the spoiled brat who’s flying the nest whines that her insensitive parents are selling her childhood memories so she’ll have nowhere to come home to. I always hated those episodes, especially because the parents always caved and stayed put. Never mind about the plans they had for their future.

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In my thirty-nine years, my parents have had twelve homes. We’re a nomadic family, never staying anywhere for more than eight years. Even so, I can’t help but feel a tinge of melancholy. They’ve been in this house for eight years. My son was barely four when they bought it and son he’ll be twelve. We’ve had birthdays here, Christmases and New Years, we’ve lived here twice as a pit stop on our way to somewhere else. I’ll miss the birds nesting outside the window, the playground where we used to go on sunny afternoons and Kenzo, the dog they had here and the way he would lie next to me while I read.

This afternoon my son and I sorted through his bedroom. What to take, what to throw away and what to donate. You really can tell that I used to work at LEGO. A few more memories came floating up out his old toy chest. The time we went to the Viking Festival and him and his friend bought matching wooden daggers. Our trip to the Bonbon Land amusement park in the pouring rain and the Mike Wazowski stuffed toy we came home with. The Yves Saint Laurent colouring book my Frenchman brought back from Paris. It was in this house that I finished Chocolates in the Ocean. From here I hit “Publish” and sent it out into the world. I saw the first sales tick in while sitting in this very kitchen.

My lemon meringue pie (recipe tomorrow) is cooling by the window. It’s my grandmother’s birthday today. She would have been ninety-three. As I was spreading the meringue on top, I could have sworn she was right here in the room with me, smiling. I take that to mean she approves of her birthday cake. She pops in for a visit every now and then.

I will miss this house. Not for the rooms, for the bricks and mortar that hold it together, but for the memories. I love that the couple who are buying it are about to have their first child. It’s a wonderful house for a family. I hope they will be very happy here.

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Author: Eva O'Reilly

Writer, avid reader, large dog lover, cake baker and Francophile. Living in hope of finding either a literary agent or a large audience on Amazon.

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