Goodbye to Days of Old

Living with my Mom has been many different things to me: a test of patience, a lesson in service, the gift of humility, but more than anything it has been learning to say goodbye. Some days I am gripped with sadness as I remember a childhood that once was filled with good memories and happiness.

I look around to see that things have changed, aged, and decayed. The sunporch is rotted out, the garage roof crumbling, patches in ceilings throughout the house, doors with shredded wood, and dilapidated out buildings. This house was once beautiful, well kept, and filled with life. I look around now and I see peeling paint, neglect, and hopelessness.

I can only change so much while I am here, but one thing we worked on was the removal of the old chicken house, aka "love shack" for James and friends. It was rotting in on itself and so Travis sawed the walls down and in. We lit the remains on fire and I watched with sadness at just another reminder of what was and will no longer be. I can't turn back time, nor would I want to most of the time, but I am filled with longing for the physical reminder of good times.

The blaze was big and beautiful and being somewhat of a pyro a bit of an adreneline rush. It was then that I was reminded of the reality that matter is neither created nor destroyed. It is and will always be and so the chicken house is and always will remain in my mind. The tender childhood moment of learning to work is now replaced with a memory of service and a big pile of ash. And although it doesn't sound nice it sure feels nice.

The pictures are once the blaze got small enough that I didn't feel sick to my stomach with nerves. It was at least three times this big.