Close the door the AC’s on…
Sitting alone in the center of my living room I realized that virtually every corner of my house bears witness to the people that occupy that space. Faces aging progressively in school photo’s. Soccer, softball, track and field trophy’s, medals, patches and pins lined up each tied to a moment, season or year. “My chair” beside the bookcase waits all week allowing trespassers to handle the remote and rest their feet on “my ottoman” until it embraces me again Friday nights.
The couch sits like form fitting shoes comfortable, each position shaped by it’s primary occupant not much to look at but perfectly suited through it’s history. Shoes stacked high against the bannister like supper at a Japanese Steak house. The old rug tells the story of birthdays and Steeler games. Every now and then I am struck by how little has changed it this room over the years yet I can’t help but smile. Sitting alone in my living room in the silence created by the absence of everything that breathed life into this room I smile. Lucky to have been so blessed by so many for so long.
