If Only...
I just recently found out via my sister that The Farm is for sale after almost 10 years. It's hard to believe that my Grandpa has been gone that long...I can still remember the sound of his voice, his particular turn of phrase, the smell of his cheap aftershave and Avon lotion and the drink always at his elbow, and the feeling of his big rough hand clasping mine as we prayed around the table.
I guess to me he was larger than life and that's why he's still such a present part of my life.
Anyway, back to the point. After Grandpa died, of course Grandma couldn't live out on The Farm on her own, so she had to sell. The auction was one of the most depressing days of my life, watching all of their possessions out on the lawn on a cold gray day...watching people appraising things that had been around me my whole life. Passing by this object or that that had some deep meaning to me, but would mean nothing to them. The things, the furniture and knick-knacks, felt so naked and bare, out there for the world to inspect and reject.
The Farm was such a part of our lives growing up. All kids should be as lucky as we were. Words just really fail me when it comes to describing all of the different things we did, games we played, the family traditions. All of that open space to run wild and free. And I always had this feeling of belonging, as if because the land had been there and been farmed by my family for so many years, we were solidly a part of the history of that area.
I've always kind of romanticized The Farm as my Tara, you know, Scarlett O'Hara would always say that she got "her strength" from the earth of Tara. Of course, it's been nearly 10 years since I've set foot on The Farm...I must be getting strength from something else now!
Anyway, I think we've all always entertained a notion that it would be something special to have The Farm back. I know it could never happen, but with it up for sale again, it has been haunting my dreams. The land is gone and can never be again. It would just be the acreage--the house and outbuildings. All of which are in sad condition, I'm sure. So unrealistic a dream...it would take a bunch of money to do all the things that need doing...the well, the septic system, probably a hundred different things. None of us would probably actually want to live out there. Nope, it doesn't make any sense.
And the people who lived there and made it special wouldn't be there anymore...so I know it wouldn't be the same anyway. There's no turning back the clock.
Still, I have been thinking about it...
I guess to me he was larger than life and that's why he's still such a present part of my life.
Anyway, back to the point. After Grandpa died, of course Grandma couldn't live out on The Farm on her own, so she had to sell. The auction was one of the most depressing days of my life, watching all of their possessions out on the lawn on a cold gray day...watching people appraising things that had been around me my whole life. Passing by this object or that that had some deep meaning to me, but would mean nothing to them. The things, the furniture and knick-knacks, felt so naked and bare, out there for the world to inspect and reject.
The Farm was such a part of our lives growing up. All kids should be as lucky as we were. Words just really fail me when it comes to describing all of the different things we did, games we played, the family traditions. All of that open space to run wild and free. And I always had this feeling of belonging, as if because the land had been there and been farmed by my family for so many years, we were solidly a part of the history of that area.
I've always kind of romanticized The Farm as my Tara, you know, Scarlett O'Hara would always say that she got "her strength" from the earth of Tara. Of course, it's been nearly 10 years since I've set foot on The Farm...I must be getting strength from something else now!
Anyway, I think we've all always entertained a notion that it would be something special to have The Farm back. I know it could never happen, but with it up for sale again, it has been haunting my dreams. The land is gone and can never be again. It would just be the acreage--the house and outbuildings. All of which are in sad condition, I'm sure. So unrealistic a dream...it would take a bunch of money to do all the things that need doing...the well, the septic system, probably a hundred different things. None of us would probably actually want to live out there. Nope, it doesn't make any sense.
And the people who lived there and made it special wouldn't be there anymore...so I know it wouldn't be the same anyway. There's no turning back the clock.
Still, I have been thinking about it...
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