The House That Built Me

I watched the Grammys last night and was oddly transfixed on Miranda Lambert singing her country song "The House That Built Me" - all about returning to her childhood home and asking to be let in by the new owners...the memories, etc. I'm not a big fan of the "new country" style of music but this song was speaking to ME! I had always wanted to go back to the house where I spent the "good" part of my childhood in South Carolina - to go through it to see how it looked and felt. I fantasized about it, had dreams about it throughout my entire life since age 10, which was when we moved from the "good" house to the "not so good house".

I moved away from my hometown after college, first to different parts of the state and then to the west coast. But every time I visited my parents I would inevitably end up driving by the house on Wittering Drive. Several times, usually. I wanted to buy that freaking house and make it mine I loved it so much. Alas, it changed owners several times over the years and I heard that at one point it was owned by a fellow who grew up just down the street, who I had known as a child. Still the drive bys continued into my 50's. I never stopped or made contact with the owners.

Then a few summers ago I was home visiting my mom and decided to go for a nice long walk to relieve the stress that comes with visiting my mom. I walked clear over to the old neighborhood and to the house. There were two little girls playing in the yard. I popped out my earbuds, shut down my music and approached them to ask if their parents were home. They were beautiful little girls and didn't seem at all phased by the strange lady who just walked into their yard. The South is like that sometimes. Gentle and sweet and open. They probably just assumed I was a neighbor walking down the street.

I approached the door of the house and a nice looking woman came out to greet me. I explained who I was and that I had grown up in the house. As I was explaining, out popped her husband, my old friend Bill Bunch. Bill, my childhood crush, was now the owner of my dream home. He recognized me immediately! He was so glad to see me! It was like we were still friends, after 40 years of not seeing each other. They invited me in and let me look around the house. It was totally different. Totally remodeled. Nothing looked very familiar except for the screened back porch. Still, just standing in the house and talking to an old friend and his wife gave me such a warm feeling of being "home". I was so happy I had made the decision to finally do what I had wanted to do for so long.

As I walked home in the lush afternoon heat I was happy. That's how the South is sometimes. Gentle and sweet and open.