Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Oh, the places you'll (never) go...again.

(Pre-Script: To experience the feel of this post all the way through your bones, read it as the song "The End Of The Innocence, #41 on the playlist, plays. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...) (...still waiting...)
Saturday night, I dreamed that I was in a really big house, Larger Than Life, you could say, and it was my Grandmother's house, that it was the very house I used to visit in Seattle every summer as a child, only in my dream it was totally not the house that my grandmother owned at all, but very colorful, and had been remodeled by the new owners. They had done all sorts of fancy things to the house; they had added a movie theater and a library, and the master bedroom walk in closet was huge. There were new furnishings, hard wood details, new paint and fabric. These upgrades were all wrong, though, because it was my Grandmother's house they had been done on, and it made me sad to see it becoming less and less the house of my earliest memories. I kept walking through the house and looking all around, reminiscing, feeling nostalgic, and longing to be able to have been the one to have bought the house. Instead I knew, in my dream, that I would never be able to go to Grandma's house ever again; that this was the final walk through. I woke up feeling nostalgic, thinking about how huge and vivid the images in the dream had been. Then I went to church and at the end of the service, the worship leader told a story about how he had recently visited his Grandparents in Hawaii. He said that at his grandparents church in Hawaii, they sang "Doxology" at the end of every service, in Hawaiian. So we ended our service that day by listening to him and the band sing "Doxology" in Hawaiian. And then we sang it in English, which was the way we used to always sing it at my Grandma's church at the end of the service when I was a kid, at the church we would walk to just down the street and around the corner from her house.


1 comment:

Brian said...

So many places, people, feelings, loves, milestones, etc. and we can never go back. Made me miss my Grandpa...the toughest gentlest man I ever knew. Maybe by going forward we go back.