Ode to My Childhood Home- The End of an Era

I received this sweet gift in the mail yesterday. It is the doorknob to my bedroom in my childhood home.

My father sold our home last week, a beautiful century old farmhouse with classic Victorian style, complete with two-toned parquet wood floors, brick fireplace, and curved crown molding. The peeling white painted paned windows looked in on over 20 years of my family’s life. Years of happiness, fighting, tears, yelling, and laughter. The worn, scuffed floors and chipped paint on the walls tell of our family’s busy history growing within the walls of a home that protected and shaped us.

That resilient old house stood through storms and wind and rain and heat and cold, always keeping us safe and warm and dry. My brother and I were both born and raised in that home, never knowing of another until now that we are grown and have homes of our own. I can still feel the smooth dark wood banister gliding under my hand, can still tell you where every hidden creak in the stair was, and still hear the banging of the old steam radiators as the heat came up on cold nights.

As I gaze at the beautiful porcelain doorknob which now resides on my desk, I’m blessed with rich memories of my hand turning that knob over many years, entering the bedroom which was my safe haven, the place where my imagination ran free, and where I conquered monsters under the bed each night. Funny memories of the time I was trapped in that room by a large roach I discovered while my father stood in the doorway yelling tips on how to kill it, sad memories of crying on my bed over some disappointing life event, and sweet memories of my parents coming in to check
on me by the soft glow of my lamp while I slept.

The new owners may wonder at the crayon picture I scribbled in the back of my closet when I was little, may wonder at the random rock “gravestones” in the backyard where many a family pet rested after a full life- but the house will always hold those memories for us no matter how much time has passed. I will dearly miss that beautiful old house, and pray that the next family will discover the love and magic that flows through every room, and treasure the memories they will soon make of their own.

Apr 27, 2016