A Happy House Reunion

Writing tonight from Ye Olde 471.  Last time I spent the night for Ed Week, Jessie had me sleep in my old bedroom, even.  She sleeps in the front bedroom; back when we owned the house, Scott and I slept in the back.

Now that back room is an office, and she has us sleeping in the basement.  To the best of my knowledge, I’ve never slept down here — not even once.  We began renting it out as an apartment after living here just 4 months, and it saw a slew of couples come and go — including Scott’s sister, Kimmie, and then later it was the first apartment to my cousin Scott and then later, the first apartment for his sister Katie.  Plenty of happy vibes in this little spot.

Plenty of happy vibes in this little happy HOME!  It’s Jessie’s now, of course, not mine.  But that’s fine. It still feels like home.  And since my parents moved away from the place they had when I was in high school, this is the one place I can go and be immersed in memories in every corner, every architectural detail, every sound and every smell.  (The fire truck drove by an hour or so ago.  That’s what you get when the station is just two blocks down.)

It’s almost midnight, and quiet, and summery and still.  I want to sit out on the porch and rock in the swing.  I want to drink in the same sooty, urban air and let my mind pretend, for just a moment, that when I go back inside, I’ll find my little kids again.  Cheeks to kiss, stories to read, songs to sing — all the little joys.

But if I did, I’d wake up Jessie.