The year: 1978. Family and friends glided back and forth on the old wooden swing and others gathered around the crooked cement steps on a warm summer's night. Reminiscing of days gone by. Talking of memories, of a time when the world was good and right.
Spring would breath life into the air after wicked winter winds subsided and high snows melted away, leaving an aftermath of wet muddy ground. Budding flowers emerged. New beginnings and eternal hope sprung forth with the calendars proclamation of spring.
Memories were warm with Christmas's past.
Happiness. Family. Innocence. The sounds of life. The smell of grilled cheese and vegetable soup cooking on the stove. The warmth of family. A home. Full of life.
Spaghetti dinners with fresh warm bread enjoyed around the little porcelain table.
Lots of Love.
Void of life.
Once upon a time. Family. Laughter. Life.
Over twenty years empty.
Memories, ever present.
Across the street from our church sits my brother Jimmy's old abandoned house. Every year he'd say, "I'm coming back to Maryland in the spring... to go through the house."
His time ran out when last year he died.
Today as I visited the abandoned house I retrieved old photos strewn through debris and memorabilia under piles of junk and clutter. Soon the house will be demolished as the grounds are now the property of our church. New life will emerge in what form, I am not sure. But something good will become of the place.
Where once there was life.