Finding Home By Emily Ann Hupe

One of the first things that I remember about our old house and property, was the smell. As we got out of the car, the first day we looked at the property, I inhaled deeply, the smell of the pine trees. I closed my eyes and let that smell envelop me and it created such a peace. I have so many memories of camping and canoeing associated with that smell. These were times during my childhood that I was truly happy.

The view from the kitchen window was not the best in the house, but it was the window I looked out of the most. I could look into the front yard and see the children play. Whether I was cooking, talking on the phone or getting a drink in the middle of the night, I looked out that window.
I always left that kitchen window open during summer evenings. In the middle of the night, I would get a drink and pause a moment just to listen. The crickets always arrived around late June. As the sunset after a hot day and the cool winds would blow, t he crickets would begin their song. I hear it now and it takes me back to my kitchen, my window, my home.

It was at that window in October of 2003 that I heard the words, She is gone, I am sorry.” It was in the pre-dawn hours of a Friday morning that I learned my mother had died. I would never again be able to stare out that window again without thinking of my mother.

I stood at that window breathing through the pre-labor pains that would bring my sweet, precious Wyatt into this world. As I watched the sunrise that September morning in 2002, I had no idea how this child inside of me would change our lives. There were moments that he would drive us to our knees in frustration and sadness. Then, just as quickly he would melt our hearts and amaze us with his deep thought and intensity.

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Posted by Sparky on Aug 1, 2017 1:39 PM America/New_York