An OKC house brought happiness to motorists as they drove by. Now it's gone.
For five years now, I have driven numerous times by your house on my way to another day at work, another trip to the store or a terrible drive to see a sick family member. Every time I passed by your house on the corner of Sooner and Waterloo, I was reminded which season or holiday we were heading into. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, your home became my grounded reminder that the year was yet again flying by. Your banners, flags and decorations brought happiness to me that someone still cared about holidays, even though I did not. Life had become so mundane and hectic at the same time, I often would lose sight that another year was passing.
When I saw the development building around your home, I had hope you wouldn’t sell or be forced out in some way. However, a few weeks ago I saw signs that you were gone. The decorations were gone, the home looked sad and I was sad with it. Although homes are just wood and sheetrock, they become much more to even people simply driving past your house. They are a place of memories, love, hate, anger, sadness, passing time, happiness or sorrow. They are a display of who we are as people. Soon, your fence was gone, next all bushes and plants you had planted, and then came the breaking of the windows and knocking down of the bricks that provided comfort and warmth to you.
Next, the most troubling, the garden. I learned more from you regarding gardening than I ever learned in books or the internet. Your garden was a treasure to pass by and watch grow. I would think to myself, "Now why can’t I do that?" But, I never afforded myself the time or pleasure of matching your garden. I did just last year see you put in cabbage and I did attempt to grow some myself. Failure. That garden was torn down recently and the amount of emotions that brought to a head was troubling. Why was this so hard to watch happen?
The difficulty stems from a realization that old times are gone. On my drive to and from work, even the majority of Christmas lights no longer bring joy. Many houses have white, boring lights with little or no imagination involved and most likely the use of a service to put those lights up. I remember my dad getting out all the decorations. Box after box would come down out of the attic. Old meaningful ornaments came out, a passed down wooden, ugly-as-hell Santa would come down and I knew another wonderful Christmas surrounded by family and friends was upcoming, no matter how ugly the reminder.
We can no longer call it Christmas in certain circles. We have to say Happy Holidays. The Christmas decorations at work are a bland, boring brown and silver. What happened to color? Are we so afraid of individuality or standing out that we all just blend in now?
However, you did not lack color or refrain from saying, “Merry Christmas!” and believe me when I say I cannot be the only one who passed by your house and smiled. You did not have new, fancy decorations; you had older, passed-down-through-generations decorations ― full of color and generated a warmth I cannot describe. I am deeply saddened I will no longer be reminded that someone cares about the passing of days and happiness those days can bring.
But don’t worry, the Wendy’s, Taco Bell and another carwash will surely fill that void. ... Not in a million years. Take care of yourself and know there is someone out here thinking of you.
Now, to find an alternate route for the daily grind.
Aimee Beuck, of Edmond, is a registered nurse, mother, animal lover and empath.
This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Home represented more than just wood and brick to people driving past
