home is where one starts from

The family moved up on the mountain when I was born (1958). The little house on Arcade Circle just wasn't big enough for the ever growing Finlayson family. This is the place I once called home. This is the place most of my childhood memories were born.

Our home on Scenic was a great place to grow up in. It was a crowded house with six kids (two to a bed) and thinned out as children grew and flew from the branches.  Most Sundays though, we'd be back together again, putting another leaf in the table to accommodate a son-in-law or a daughter-in-law. Then came the grandchildren! The family kept increasing and Sunday afternoons were crowded and fun. Conversations, guitars, laughter. I have heard from my in-laws that it takes time to get accustomed to the noise level. Once one attains the tolerance for the noise - then you can slowly learn to focus - learn to tune your attention through the different conversations going on all at once - like tuning a dial of a radio. It's a lot like acquiring a super power - being able to adapt to the Finlayson commotion. I can see how it would've been quite overwhelming to a novice - to have all those channels going on all at once. Being born into it is a different matter.

The above photo shows the area of the house that I came to enjoy the most - the back porch. It wasn't until the early eighties that dad had the arbor built and added a screen to diffuse the sunlight. Mom hung the potted plants and I guess Dad had his hand in telling what plant would look best where. I spent hours and hours outside alone on the old pew playing guitar. It took a long time for me to get decent enough a player -so it was best that I torture the neighbors instead. The back porch was a haven from the constant activity of the world inside. It was a place that one could often be alone and if someone joined you - a clear channel in which to talk.

I remember the day we moved out. I thought I was going to miss that place more than I did. It is after all a thing - a big thing - but a thing nevertheless. It's amazing how we humans can move on in life and adapt to new surroundings so quickly. We discover how easy it is to make new places into new homes. I know that my daughters see our odd looking yellow brick house as home (I do too). They know every nook and cranny of this house like I knew my first home on Scenic Hwy. But one day they will fly away too. I hope when they leave - they will have countless good memories of this place they called home. Maybe they will take something of this place and time to one day make a happy home of their own.

God bless you Katie and Kelsey.

"Home is where one starts from" - T.S. Eliot