I posted this song the week we moved last time, a whole two years ago. It's been in my head for the last few days and I finally, upon sitting down to post a Tuesday track (a little late) realized that, duh. No wonder I've been humming, "I'll be in my treeeeeeee" for the last several days.
It feels weird posting anything else right now so I'm going to go ahead and repost the same song I did two years and two months ago. Along with the recycled thoughts I had last time we moved:
Over a sea of boxes, Hal and I wonder whether the children will remember this house. We print our names on the sides with black marker, agreeing that Archer will (likely) remember it here. The bedroom with the candle-like "flickerlies," the bathroom with two entrances, the "secret passageway" in the neighbor's palm-frond filled side-yard, the stoop we set the water table up on in the summer and how the faucet leaked.
We agree that Fable will not. She won't remember the kitchen and where she hid her measuring spoons. She won't remember which yard the next street over harvested the most weeds for her to pick, the most rocks for her to collect and try to carry - frustrated with her own small hands.
...And yet, no matter how much we can't wait to leave, there's a part of me pushing down on time with the weight of me. Toes trying mightily to clutch at our foundation through the heaviness of re-soled shoes.
We were a family here first. When our children were babies. When Hal and I were strangers. When these streets of ours were new...
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And even though I just copied and pasted some words from an old post into this new one, they're undeniably spot on. The exact same sentences in my fingers, just with different names.
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