My favorite place on earth is the house that my mom grew up in. Sat on top of a hill surrounded by trees and wild fauna, this house always made me feel at peace. In my childhood it was where I did most of my adventuring and as I grew older its where I went to get away from everything else. About 10 years ago the decision to build a new house in its place was made. I was heartbroken. I could not fathom any other place ever making me feel the way being in that house did. For around 2 years during my summer vacation I would return to stay at my mother’s house and from the small house that the family had moved into while the main house was getting built I would slowly watch the last remaining parts of my favorite place disappear. In its place was a new, modern, impersonal set of bricks that knew not of me or the times I had spent there.
on my second visit after the construction started I spotted a huge frame tucked away behind all the furniture from the old house. It was the first bag of concrete used to build the new house. It looked very optimistic, bright yellow with the pattern of a rising sun on it. I could not help but roll my eyes. I could neither see anything positive about this change nor believe how easily people moved on.
On my most recent visit this framed bag caught my eye once again, ten years had gone by in the blink of an eye. So many amazing things had happened within the walls of the “new” house. We had welcomed 3 new members to our family, their combined efforts at graffitiing the walls with pens, marks and dirty hands and the various indications and indents of their growing up and other unrelated incidents that left a mark on the house told many stories. It was impossible not to love this house, it had, soon after its construction resumed being my favorite place, just in a different outfit. Looking at the framed bag now I understood why the bag almost seemed to be made to convey optimism. While the memories from the old home will always be cherished, making room for a few more was a great idea.