Darkness envelops the surroundings as night progresses. I look to the setting sun one more time. A sun that I may never see for a long time. A sun that I may never even see again.
A cool, crisp evening breeze kisses my forehead. Tears I’ve been holding back for so long start to roll down my cheeks. I embrace the enclosing darkness as I lock the front door of my house for the last time.
You all my wonder as to why I am very much attached to this house. It may just be an ordinary house, but this house, small as it may seem, has been my home my entire life. Here I have grown up, lost my innocence, ran, jumped, played, wept. The walls of this home have been witness to all my triumphs, my dreams, my tribulations, even my heartbreaks. But no matter how hard we try to resist, life always has its way of saying when it is time to go.
I can almost hear the door weep as I turn my back on it. Suitcases already inside, I head for my car and drive away, still holding back my tears. Hoping that the new owners would take care of it as much as I did. Praying that soon that house will again be filled with love and laughter.
In silence I drive my car into the dark of the night. The road cuts past through the forest. I can almost hear the trickle of the water of the mountain stream running parallel to the road. My eyes would not have seen the landscape in the darkness, but I know it is there, pieces of my childhood. Even these I have to leave behind.
As I continue my drive I seem to hear a child’s laughter. A child running through that mountain stream, laughing his heart out. Aah, the times I would run out of that small house and through the forest, my feet joining the water of the mountain stream. I am tempted to pull over, get out of my car, and run through that stream for one last time. But I cannot. Not in this darkness.
One more hour later I reach my destination. My eyes try to adjust from the darkness of the lonely country road to brightness of the city lights. This is my home now, I told myself.
I took a turn into a small parking lot and stopped the car. I picked up my stuff. I went up to my new quarters – an even smaller apartment unit amidst the hustle and bustle of the city.
As I make my way up the staircase of the apartment building I see a writing on the wall:
We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere. (Tim McGraw)
I suddenly remember my old house. My childhood. I take a deep breath and went on to my unit.
As I open the door, I realize that I need not weep for so long for the memories I had with that house. I realize I can make this apartment unit the same as what I have done with that small house. I realize I can make the city streets the same as that mountain stream.
I close my eyes and imagine my old house. I can hear it telling me that it is time to move on. The house in my vision is right. It is really time to move on. But not just move on as it is.
I am now taking on my future.
I am now taking on a new life.
I am now taking everything as a new me – a grown up.
But I will still look forward to the day I will see that house again.