The Night Before August
So I write this post with a sad and heavy heart. The place I have called home for eighteen years will no longer be my home after July 31st at 11:59 PM. I walk the empty hallway and think of the great things that have happened here. . .
1. The street out front where I learned to ride a bike.
2. The now insulated filled attic that we used to hide in.
3. The roof of my carport, where we used to watch the sunset, and star gaze.
4. The backyard where I had a sandbox made from an old semi tire.
5. The swingset we used until it was just to big for any of us to use anymore.
6. Banging on bricks to try and make bowls, and getting yelled at for making such a racket.
7. The hole in the fence we used to get to 7-Eleven
8. The trailer park that I have been afraid of since before I can remember.
9. Baseball in the yard during the spring and summer months.
10. Dancing on the coffee table, whenever I felt like letting off some steam.
Even in divorce this was still my home, but now I finally must say goodbye to the only real home I have ever known.
I had a thought about a song. . .
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep
He can't hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house it has a crowd
There's always something happening
And it's usually quite loud
Our mum she's so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our...
Something tells you that you've got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
She's the one they're going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how we'd play simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep
He can't hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
That one seems like a good choice