This is probably going to sound very corny, but I don't care. Today my aunt took me by her old house, and I was stronger than I thought I'd be. When we pulled up and I saw the wood chips and hay where everything once was, I was overcome with this feeling of pure serenity. My aunt said to me: "it looks like nothing was ever there."
It was truly amazing. The lot was flat. The large trees that had surrounded the house seemed to be closer, standing taller. The cacti that my aunt had planted by the driveway were still there huddled together. When my eyes scanned the house, I thought of the
I thought of a place of warmth where all were welcome, and how much love and attention were put into the space. It was very much my aunt and uncle's, and the spirit of who they were reached every room from top to bottom. They'd carved a life for themselves there, and when I moved from Chicago to Tennessee, it became my base. It was comfortable.
I took so many pictures of flora and fauna, of new life, and of landscapes here and there. I savored the beauty of the forest outside my window, laughed at the strangeness of being stalked by birds, and felt a rush of excitement every Christmas (yeah I am a Buddhist but you try killing my holiday spirit, damn it!) when it was time to decorate and bake.
As much as that home on Oliver was theirs, I felt like it was also mine. From the wonderful and expansive room belonging to my aunt and uncle, to the fragrant kitchen downstairs where I baked and babysat. I wanted a future there, and hope for many more years, but tomorrow is never promised to us.
When the tree fell through the house during finals, I realized this quickly. As I watched my aunt and uncle search hard and make do, I realized this. I celebrate their determination and resilience, and see what the power of courage and strength can do for you. I am very proud of them.
As we watched the house be emptied, and as they watched it be torn down (I was out of town for the second part), nobody knew what was next. When they found the beautiful house they're in now, cardinals of hope showed up. Nothing is ever promised, and all materials mean nothing when you've still got another day to live life and breathe. It can all be taken away from you in an instant. They prayed and held fast to God, and I chanted Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo. Everyone prayed. They were blessed with kindness, and I believe that's what got them through everything.
In the face of everything falling apart, these people below held fast.
Seeing that space, I thought I was going to cry. When I saw the beauty of nature, it reminded me of The Sims. How easy it is to delete houses, how easy it is for the Earth to restore itself once people move away. It hurt a little to see the space, but the openness and the shining of the Sun on that very spot gave me some kind of hope.
Serenity stood with sadness, and together we all said goodbye to the little white house on Oliver Street.
I will miss that beautiful house.