A Old House... pt. 2 (or, i see dead people)

Get my shit straight, she says. I see that a tad more difficult than she so easily types it!

try... just try

I still have Poppa stories to tell, but they aren't coming as easily as I would like. Getting close to the end of something so emotional is hard, like if I don't tell them... somehow they will linger. If I tell, I might let go. I'm not ready to let go, just yet.

So here I am again with this "Old House". Not seeing how this will be any easier.

You know this is sorta like playing the piano, once you know the piece... you don't have to read the music. Your fingers know where to go and something else takes over, no thought process to it. Just feel it. Seems I don't know this piece anymore and I've totally forgotten how to read the music as well.

sigh BREAK

Its funny to me how I have such vivid images of some things when I was little, and no recall at all with something that's so close to the images. I can tell you of remembering my dads hands taking my little ones and helping me up the 2 foot step that entered the back door of the old house. I can tell you I remember the peeling wall paper and old smell of a house unused. I can tell you I have no recall of the conversation that took place between little me and my parents. So how do I tell this story? Parts of it will have to be what has been repeated to me by mom or dad or biggest sis, parts will be actual memory. I'm not a proFESSional writer, so if I screw it up, feel free to ask me any questions.

THE conversation actually had one that came some time before it, I REMEMBER that one.

We were in the car and house hunting. I have no idea if we had looked at any other house, I don't believe I've ever even asked someone if we had looked at another. But I did know we were looking for a "new" house to live in. From the car window I could see all kinds of pretty houses that looked like nice places to live. I remember asking "why can't we live there?". I even know where that particular house stands today. Mom answers "someone lives there, we have to find a house where no one else already lives".

I have no time frame between that conversation and actually standing in the old house.

Daddy told me after we did a walk through and the adults talked about what would need to be done before we moved in and what we could do after we moved in, I said to him... "I thought mommy said we had to find a house no one lived in?". I so wish I could remember his face when I said that, I'm pretty sure I've seen the look. Poor Daddy, he was always the one to get stuck with me. *big grin*

Keep in mind this house was empty. The cupboard doors all open and bare, not a chair or lamp anywhere. Bare it was, dirty it was, falling apart it was. Cosmetic falling apart that is, the house is very sound even to this day. wonder if Critter took her camera with her to town?

We move in. I have no idea how long between looking at the house and actually moving into it. I have no recall of the house I lived in before, must have not been anything special.

From day 1 I required an extra place setting at the table. No food was added to the plate or anything like that, but it HAD to be there.

Coming in from playing in the backyard... mom "What are you doing out there?" me "Playing with Timmy".

I suppose it was around this time the whole family starts asking me more specific questions. Like - What does Timmy look like? Where does Timmy live? Do you SEE him?

I guess I did see him, my oldest sis (by 12 years) claims I'd stomp my feet and say "he looks like Kevin (my cousin) Blond hair! Boy! 4 years old! He's STANDING RIGHT THERE."

Very annoyed at why they were asking me these questions. Why not just ask him? He was right there....

It didn't really take more than a couple of days before everyone believed. No, they didn't SEE... but they believed.

We lived there for 10 years and it wasn't unusual at all to hear Daddy's booming voice in the middle of the night "Timmy!! I SAID GO TO SLEEP!"

ok, there is more.. and I will try to not wait 3 months to write it.