i do too, every time. i can't believe its been that long. i have more distinct memories about bailey than i do about most of the houses we've lived in.
It was magic, that place. Like falling down a rabbit hole into wonderland.
I miss the smells. It was earthy and green and laced with dill and garlic and roses and pine trees and magnolia blossoms and fried pies and little whiffs of hairspray and Absorbine Jr. Oh dear, my eyes are watering. Y'all used to tease me when you were little about the way I always get a little teary over the smell of fresh dill in the grocery store, but I think now you're beginning to get it.
I miss the light. Everything was dappled and shimmery under those huge trees, even inside the house. The rooms were always dancing with the light from the windows flying around restless. Outside, the grass sparkled.
I miss my Grandaddy's voice in the garden warbling out Children of the Heavenly King while he chopped and hoed, and the twinkley-eyed way he adored me. I don't think anyone's ever utterly adored me quite the same way he did, and oh, I really miss that feeling. I adored him right back, everything about him, and I miss that, too.
I'm glad that I had the sense back then to regularly drop all the everythings that always seems so all-fired important and just go camp out there with you two girls. And to just let you be. I wanted you to have Bailey in your hearts. I'm so glad you do, but I could feel a little sorry that I set you up to long for it now, forever. Instead it gives me great hope for your futures and your future homes and your future children that you do have that place in your hearts, because it will profoundly affect what sort of homes the two of you will create for the people you love. You'll give them something like Bailey in a world where Baileys are almost extinct, and they will be happy there.
i do too, every time. i can't believe its been that long. i have more distinct memories about bailey than i do about most of the houses we've lived in.
ReplyDeleteIt was magic, that place. Like falling down a rabbit hole into wonderland.
ReplyDeleteI miss the smells. It was earthy and green and laced with dill and garlic and roses and pine trees and magnolia blossoms and fried pies and little whiffs of hairspray and Absorbine Jr. Oh dear, my eyes are watering. Y'all used to tease me when you were little about the way I always get a little teary over the smell of fresh dill in the grocery store, but I think now you're beginning to get it.
I miss the light. Everything was dappled and shimmery under those huge trees, even inside the house. The rooms were always dancing with the light from the windows flying around restless. Outside, the grass sparkled.
I miss my Grandaddy's voice in the garden warbling out Children of the Heavenly King while he chopped and hoed, and the twinkley-eyed way he adored me. I don't think anyone's ever utterly adored me quite the same way he did, and oh, I really miss that feeling. I adored him right back, everything about him, and I miss that, too.
I'm glad that I had the sense back then to regularly drop all the everythings that always seems so all-fired important and just go camp out there with you two girls. And to just let you be. I wanted you to have Bailey in your hearts. I'm so glad you do, but I could feel a little sorry that I set you up to long for it now, forever. Instead it gives me great hope for your futures and your future homes and your future children that you do have that place in your hearts, because it will profoundly affect what sort of homes the two of you will create for the people you love. You'll give them something like Bailey in a world where Baileys are almost extinct, and they will be happy there.