In the blog entry titled "Memories: 'Home' Again" earlier in this Crazy Cousin Reunion . . . and More trek, I shared about the day my sister, Merrilyn, and I drove by our old farm house where she and I were born and raised in the early years of our lives. I opened that entry saying,
"The old farm still stands, is actually for sale, but Merrilyn and I chose not to buy this place that holds our earliest childhood memories. The old brick house has been painted white, the paint flaking away leaving a rather sad look. A slight wind could shiver the barn timbers enough to flatten it, that wonderful old barn where we used to play. We couldn't even quite bring ourselves to take a picture of this precious old place from our childhood, preferring to treasure memories of when it was a well-kept haven of love."
On this trek, Neil and I have revisited three of the posts at which we were stationed (Ft. Polk, Louisiana; Ft. Bliss, TX; and Ft. Huachuca, AZ) and have gone by to see two of our former homes. Our house at Ft. Polk was on base and has been nicely maintained and even improved since we moved 11 years ago, but our house at Ft. Huachuca/Sierra Vista was another story.
Yesterday, we drove by what was one of our very favorite homes of all time, a home where Christy, David, Neil and I were exceptionally happy and shared so many good days. Neil and I purchased this home in Sierra Vista, just outside Ft. Huachuca, when David & Christy, then going into 5 and 4 grades respectively, were staying in California for a week with my sister and brother-in-law, Merrilyn & Jack. We told the children little about the new house, saving it as a surprise.
Traveling to Arizona with Mom and Dad following us in their car that August of 1984, we drove down the narrow highway from I-10 south to Ft. Huachuca, a 25 mile trek through a desolate and barren desert. We were coming from Panama, a land with beautiful, lush green grass and trees and flowers in every direction, where even the fence posts sprout leaves and branches. After Panama, Ft. Huachuca was quite a shock . . . so dry, barren, and bleak, yet with a beauty that grows on you in that high desert area, bordered with mountains behind the post.
Arriving at our new home, we opened the front door and walked through to the kitchen/great room, asking the children to draw the curtains to the backyard, revealing a gorgeous swimming pool, water shimmering blue in the sun. David and Christy were ecstatic! They had no clue that this house came equipped with a pool, and it was likely the greatest surprise gift we have ever given our children.
Yesterday, Neil and I drove by that beautiful Spanish-style house, and it broke our hearts. The twenty years since we'd sold that house and moved have taken a serious toll. The beautiful adobe-look has been painted white, the porch has been enclosed and covered with iron bars, as are all the windows, although none of the neighboring homes have that prison-like look. The yard has not been well cared for, and the trim is painted an ugly green. The pool has been filled in with dirt, that beautiful blue tiled pool where we shared so much fun with so many people.
I texted the children and told them the sad state of our old house and reminded them of that old saying, "You can never go back." Obviously, you can go back, but you have to be ready to accept that things will likely have changed and will never be quite the same. That's certainly the case -- both in Ontario with our old farm house (55+ years later) and in Sierra Vista (20 years later).
But there is one other thing about going back: although the places you visit are likely to have changed, often for the worse, memories of our beautiful home and pool and of the good days we all spent there cannot be changed nor taken away, and for those warm, wonderful memories, we are truly grateful!
