I couldn’t find an extremely fitting photo for this post, but I figure this is a good one to use. It reminds me of calm, peaceful times in life. Such a beautiful morning.
The black and white image is one shot in the upstairs of the house, where I used to “explore” as a child.
Collecting my thoughts the other day, I ended up writing this, and I feel I should share. Not to share my story, but to share a simple life lesson.
As I stand here, sipping water from this Gatorade bottle still tainted with the slight taste of orange, I am reminded of times during my childhood.
As a child, I would take spontaneous bike rides to my grandmother’s house when she was not home. Ducking into the back porch door on a hot summer day, I would sneak to the kitchen and grab myself a cold root beer from the fridge, proceeding my venture to the basement and then upstairs just to look around.
The upstairs of her house, which was constantly blocked by a child gate, always gave off such an eerie feeling to me, because it was rarely ever touched. Miscellaneous objects scattered the hall and rooms, while the summer day would shine in, painting these rooms with bright rays of sunlight. I quietly sifted through my mother’s old room, and both of my uncle’s as well, examining artifacts of the past. I have kept this to myself until now finally writing this.
Summers during the 1990s and early 2000s of my childhood felt so much fresher, brighter and warmer in a much nicer way. Everything just seemed better. Less technology crowded the space in which we could create, and it interrupted less of our interaction between each other. Everybody seemed happier, and the world seemed so much more carefree.
I’m not sure if it was the “don’t give a fuck” attitude, and skewed perception of the world around through a child’s eyes, or if it was truly the absence of technology clouding our real connection between each other. Through social media we block true human interaction out. There is no touch, no feel, and no true showing of our current emotion, but only a synthetic representation. Without the real thing, life seems to become much more depressing and emotionless. I feel that this has begun leading us to false feelings of hatred or dislike between each other. I also feel as though I was rather observant of my surroundings as a child, constantly watching the attitudes and interaction of others around while growing up. As I have watched through the passing of time in life, I have seen the population go from less screens in their face with more true human interaction, to more screens, more social media, and less interaction. I have noticed a significant decline in emotion, as well as attitudes simultaneously progressing with one another.
Either that, or I am crazy.
I could definitely be crazy.
My grandmother’s house, and house I currently live in has quite a history…in fact, quite a mysterious history.
The home was built in 1920, originally serving as a Masonic lodge and gathering place. Much still remains throughout the property left behind by them, including a large Freemason symbol behind our fireplace. My grandfather felt the need to cover the symbol up, as it made him uncomfortable. We have filled in the 30-foot deep well in our basement, and the rest of the property still intrigues me to this day. I would like to one day find out all I can about what sits behind the walls, under the floors, and the foundation…especially the strange concrete pillar in our backyard.
We moved into the house in the year of 2003, and for a short amount of time were living with my grandmother. During the renovation period of the house, my grandmother passed away late one night. I woke up to the sound of yelling coming from downstairs, and I could tell by the tone that something was very wrong. I got out of bed, and there I found everyone awake in the living room, looks of panic and tears on everyone’s face. My whole heart suddenly dropped and my entire body went numb. Any and all thought had abandoned my mind for the next 5 hours after what I had witnessed.
My grandmother was found unconscious and not breathing in her room. My stepfather, sister and mother were all in tears as she was carried past me to be taken to the hospital. I remember my stepfather trying to turn me away so I wouldn’t witness the sight, but sometimes I guess life just needs to happen as it does. I remember this more vividly than almost anything in my life. It really is a wild feeling, seeing the passing of a life in such a way.
Before she passed, my grandmother was writing me a note congratulating me on how great I was doing in school, how she was proud of me and how much she loved me. Those were the last words I ever spoke to her. Something as simple as “I love you” can truly mean a lot, because life can completely flip at any moment. Make sure everyone in your life and everyone there for you know that you love them.