He had to hold the railing tighter these days and look where he was going as the old eyes were growing weary along with the rest of him. He knew the old house and the scars of age like the bottom stair that creaked and the back screen door that slammed shut quicker than he could get his entire self in.
He took one step at a time moving past the pictures that were his life then and now but mostly then. Snapshots of he and his wife dancing the night away the day they wed, and there's Bobby their firstborn on his first day in school. He remembered she cried but what mother doesn’t? His tears flowed freely as he walked down the steps capturing and reliving his life in pictures.
He paused at the bottom step above the one that would tell them Bobby was trying to sneak in after curfew, or Ginny their baby girl would sit for hours playing with her dolls saying it was her favorite seat in the whole house.
It was the step they would sit on when something important needed to be said, where tears would flow and smiles would shine. Guess it was the family step that held their stories. He took the last step listening for that so familiar squeak that he never grew tired of hearing.
The moving van came today, and soon, this old house would be filled with the laughter of children once again. It was just him now, and he didn’t need all this space. He moved into a nice room at Bobby's house where life would be a bit easier for him.
He handed over the keys and all of his memories to a family, much like his own so long ago. Seeing their love and laughter gave him peace, knowing the old place would continue to create memories. New pictures would line the walk of the stairway, and hopefully, that last step would continue to squeak to all that would listen.
www.facebook.com/mikeoconnor-author
www.michaeloconnorwriter.com
No comments:
Post a Comment