surreal recall of the past

Memories well up when visiting a friend in his parent’s house.
Soon he will sell the place … I wanted to see the dryer as we needed another one.

I didn’t come here in 25 years, and in all those years, it hadn’t changed at all: the Black and White pictures of the family still on the wall of the familiar living room, a stove, a kitchen table …
A place where we took our first steps in computing and HAM radio, …
A Magnificent garden with perfect beech trees …

Mind had forgotten about all this, but all registers of memory open during this short visit.
Emotions well up …

We flew out of our nests, all those years ago, and visited each other in many places we made our own in those 25 years between then and now.

Half a life …
And before that half, a first half …
After today, perhaps another 25 years, … or perhaps not …

-#-

… I came home with an old vacuum cleaner, a triangle (musical instrument) … and with rekindled memories, soon going to sleep again, perhaps for ever …


Picture by bvdb (whoisbert) november 2015 – @home – Nikon D3300 – ex_dsc_4231

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18 thoughts on “surreal recall of the past

  1. Another wrote today about certain things in her home which hold memory-value. It’s interesting, is it not, how such scenes revivify in the mind as if the memory merges with reality, somehow. And although I find a certain comfort in entering such a place, our own space keeps changing. Helps that I’m an interior designer, but still. Staying in the same house, keeping the same photo montages, etc. gets boring, somehow. Every once in awhile (or every time we move!) we change ’em up! Aloha, Bert.

    • My father’s house is full of memorabilia. In fact, not much has changed in that house, even since I was a baby. It must be a comfortable place for him, but it also keeps him stuck in that past.
      My family and I live in my maternal grandmother’s house, but she wouldn’t recognize the place. I’ve never kept souvenirs. A divorce 10 years ago took care of the removal of a lot of stuff (half πŸ™‚ ), and the past 5 years I’m trying to have even more space resulting in a very slow move towards ‘zen’. The only thing I recognize daily are the trees in the garden, but they too have their timeframe.

    • only those memories would go to sleep πŸ™‚ thank you for the friendly concern.
      there is tension around here, living in a subtle type of martial law which creates a kind of burning boredom, but no depression. The eye of the storm only seldom stays long at the same place though. We are only wondering what will happen when tomorrow the daily treadmill will interfere with geopolitics.

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