“You leave home, you move one, and you do the best you
can. I got lost in this old world and
forgot who I am.”
Miranda Lambert, The House That Built Me.
Sometimes I am so lost in
this ancient world, eons old, that I can’t figure out who I am. Mom’s home sold yesterday, closed, signed,
paid for and I turned the key in the lock for the last time, locking it forever
from me. There are old homes in my life,
mostly parsonages that built me. A
housing project home at Carson Newman College, a small home in Taylorsville KY,
a ancient old ruin in the middle of Athens TN and the one that built me most, a
little home looking out over Big Rock Mountain in Crab Orchard TN. But this home yesterday was the last place I saw
my dad alive and was filled with all the things collected in all those other
homes and yesterday all I have left is the memory.
It is difficult to close door metaphorically and real world. You must remember HE always opens another, or is it really that HIS door is always open?
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