It's been a really, really, really long time since Dad lived on Ricky Lane. It's the house that has all the "growing up with Dad" memories. We have wonderful memories in the "new" house. Addie was never in the "old" house, all of her Grandpa Larry memories are in the "new" house. But for me and Alicia growing up, this was the place. The "Old" house.
Yesterday, driving home from getting the kid and spending the weekend with Gramma Debbie, we were coming up on the turn. And we decided to take it.
I didn't even recognize the entrance! I thought we had missed a turn somewhere. The entrance was lined with beautiful trees and grass. It was completely different than what I remembered, thank goodness there was a sign! Even coming into the park, I wasn't sure I would remember where to go it looked so different. Dad moved out of that house when I was 18 years old. That was a while ago! But I remembered. It was like coming home. The turns pretty much made themselves.
The first thing I noticed was that the park Alicia and I played at so often, just in the backyard, was gone. I started to think I was going the wrong way. Then I saw it...
Ricky Lane. There it was, the street. It was time to take the turn. Alicia was on the phone with me, it felt like she was there with me, minus that we would be holding hands in real life.
The strangest feeling came over me. I couldn't and still can't tell you what it was. It was just this strange feeling. Anxious, Happy, Pride, Scared, Sad, and about 50 million other emotions. All rolled into 1. Memories were racing through my mind by this point.
My girls were with me. We pulled up in front of the house and just looked. Thank goodness no one was home, they probably would have thought we were some crazy stalker folks. Really, who pulls up in front of your house and sits there to cry for a few? That was us. I just needed to see it again.
The house looks almost exactly the same. I took pictures, but won't put them here to respect the new family. But, I could tell it was the exact same house...by the front door. It's a new color, there were gorgeous plants everywhere, a cute swing set in the yard, the patio had new "railings" (for lack of a better word). It was beautiful. Someone was loving this house and making new memories with their little girls (I say girls only because the 2 little bikes out front, were Pink Princess bikes), just like our Dad had done with his little girls.
Alicia even asked me, "Are you sure it's the same house? Go look at the back door." Didn't need to, the bush gave it away. When he was still there, it was a lonely bush. One bush out front, growing up in the tongue of the trailer. It's still there. And it's beautiful. And it's surrounded by beautiful flowers, and new pretty bushes. But it's still there, in all it's glory.
We sat for a spell and I told my girls about growing up there and a few stories of how it used to look and the shed he built for the snowmobile that was still standing out back. About the way there was a path worn into the backyard hill leading to the playground that was no longer there. About how I remembered when the patio overhang went up. And the door. It was the same front door. Still after all these years, and all the changes to the house, the front door remained the same.
Then we drove up to the pool and I told them about all the summer days we spent in that pool. That was where I learned how to do a somersault, front flip, and dive. That was where Alicia and I had matching swimsuits - but not matching haircuts. That was where Dad taught us how to properly launch a Canonball for the biggest splash possible. For a skinny guy, he could sure make a splash!!
There was so much emotion, and I still had to drive 250 miles. It was time to go. We drove out, and I got lost, the other entrance is totally different. Thank goodness Mariah has a good sense of direction! We made it back to the highway and were on our way to Our Home. The home where D and I make these memories with our little girls. The home that someday will hopefully bring them the same nostalgic feelings when they crazy stalk it.
Aha moment of the trip, homes are just homes. But the memories you make in those homes are what's important. Make the memories. Give the kids, and yourself, something to hold on to. And something to tell their kids about.
The very best part, that morning, we were sitting out on the patio at the "new" house just chatting and enjoying some girl time talking about the absolutely beautiful gardens Debbie has created and talking about some of the silly things Dad would say and do, and we were accosted by a Dragonfly. And this Dragonfly, would not go away. We didn't shoo him, we watched in amazement as he circled and circled and circled all of us girls. He landed a few times, never far away, still within sight. I believe that those who love us are never truly lost, they come back and check on you when you don't even know it. But we knew it. He stopped to say Hey. And show us that no matter what, he's still with us, and he still loves us, and he will always be with us, no matter what form he takes, he will always be there.
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