A Letter

Dear Parker Family,

Ten and a half years ago, you bolted through my doors. You were a family made up of awkward teens and preteens, a hard working Mom and a Dad ready to start flying solo with his medical profession. You drove many hours to reach me. A family from the North relocating to the sunny South.

 When you saw my empty rooms, backyard and pool you exclaimed, “This place is TOO nice for us!” over and over again. It didn’t take long for you to settle right into me. You filled each one of my rooms with your stuff. You slept in my four bedrooms. One in particular you painted blue, then pink, then yellow. Thank you for the change of scenery. 

I felt the piles of laundry build up on those floors. The rooms were a place for doing homework, talking to friends and prepping for spontaneous fashion shows. I saw the excitement as you got ready for proms, graduations, concerts, games and weddings. My walls heard sermons being prepped. Secrets being told.

You filled my dining room with countless meals. Meals with family and with friends. You sat and ate for hours as I listened into the conversations.  At times they were fun, sad, angry, confused, deep conversations. You filled this room with balloons and streamers for every birthday.

 Thank you for the smell of delicious food in my kitchen. I watched as meals were whipped up in five minutes. Other times crock pots ran all morning and novice chefs dissected recipes. My sink felt heavy with dishes, my island was covered in mail. You filled my kitchen walls with sadness early on when you heard of Grandpa Jack’s death. You made my kitchen one of the main meetings spots.

You gathered for holidays. I heard you sing Christmas carols in the dark of my living room with only the tree to light up the room. You exchanged gifts. You scattered wrapping paper on my floors. You devoured turkey and mashed potatoes. You stuck heart stickers on my windows.  

 You filled my garage with toys, cars and tools. You worked out and hid Christmas presents there. Your dog greeted people with a wagging tail and fat lump. In the Fall, leaves and dog hair blew across the floor. Please tell Chuck that the messy garage was always okay with me. It was a sign of family and of busy lives. Four new drivers drove into my driveway.

 I held my breath.

Above the garage, you watched countless hours of TV (Please tell Shelly that was okay too), cheered for football teams and played on the computer. I heard you fight for computer and phone time. I listened as the newly engaged couple crept up the stairs at Midnight to tell everyone the big news.  

My yard gave you time in the spring and summer to relax and have fun. You ran around, attacked fire ant hills and called for your dog to come back. In my pool you raced, floated and talked. I felt hair clippings drop on my porch and felt the tug of the porch swing.

Parker Family, I have watched you grow for ten years. Thank you for filling my walls with memories.

Love,

Your House on Yachting Road