{"id":8689,"date":"2014-04-26T08:46:31","date_gmt":"2014-04-26T15:46:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/?p=8689"},"modified":"2014-04-26T09:17:42","modified_gmt":"2014-04-26T16:17:42","slug":"goodbye-house","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/2014\/04\/26\/goodbye-house\/","title":{"rendered":"Goodbye House"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Corner-of-house\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The corner window has particular memories for me, just over my bed, a sometimes egress for midnight escapades\u00a0with friends.<\/h6>\n

It’s the end of an era. This house, when my Dad bought it in 1955, marked a new beginning for all of us. I was 12. The house was as big as all California, moving as we were from bricked-in Milwaukee. But now, with Dad gone and Mom shortly before, both dying there per their wishes, the house is being sold. Yesterday we went up to Palos Verdes for virtually the last time for the final clear out.<\/p>\n

All the siblings had traveled in and gone\u00a0through the house earlier, picking out what might be still useful, claiming things for memories. Years before my mother suggested that we\u00a0choose what we’d like. All five of us had our eyes on\u00a0the old rocking chair. I don’t remember who got it in the end. But yesterday\u00a0was for what was left, everything being donated\u00a0to a thrift shop connected to a men’s\u00a0ministry we know. I think the folks would be pleased.<\/p>\n

\"Stuff-on-Lawn\"<\/p>\n

It all looks rather forlorn\u00a0here,\u00a0but every piece of furniture, if it could talk, would tell stories, both of the owners and many, many friends.<\/h6>\n

I’m reminded of This Old House<\/em>\u00a0that Rosemary Clooney sang back when I was just becoming aware of radio:<\/p>\n

This ole house once knew his children<\/em>
\n This ole house once knew his wife<\/em>
\n This ole house was home and comfort<\/em>
\n As they fought the storms of life<\/em>
\n This old house once rang with laughter<\/em>
\n This old house heard many shouts<\/em>
\n Now he trembles in the darkness<\/em>
\n When the lightnin’ walks about<\/em><\/p>\n

CHORUS:<\/em>
\n Ain’t a-gonna need this house no longer<\/em>
\n Ain’t a-gonna need this house no more<\/em>
\n Ain’t got time to fix the shingles<\/em>
\n Ain’t got time to fix the floor<\/em>
\n Ain’t got time to oil the hinges<\/em>
\n Nor to mend the windowpane<\/em>
\n Ain’t a-gonna need this house no longer<\/em>
\n He’s a-gettin’ ready to meet the saints<\/em><\/p>\n

\"Memories-made-here\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Couldn’t resist this photo as we left the house for the last time and looked back at the dumpster in the driveway. The “junk” is gone, but the memories will fade very slowly.<\/h6>\n

And so it goes. The metaphor’s for the body, both Dad and Mom having now given up theirs, the need for anything else long gone.<\/p>\n

Happily it’s a new<\/em> house for another family. The buyers have long been friends of my parents. As a tribute to them they offered more than the asking price, and they’re already making plans for restoration and expansion. As\u00a0I see it, it’s\u00a0all part of God’s continued blessing on my parents’ lives.<\/p>\n

The house is gone, but memories continue. The next series of blogs will be a brief history of my father’s life, in his words, in short increments, with a few photos. It’ll be with more frequency than these blogs have been coming.<\/p>\n

It seems only right. Who of us would not wish for at least some continuing tribute? And his life, as you’ll see, is worth getting to know. We’ll start tomorrow.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The house I grew up in, my parents died in, and many, many knew, is now also passing on. It’s another ending, another beginning.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8689"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8689"}],"version-history":[{"count":47,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8689\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8740,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8689\/revisions\/8740"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8689"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8689"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8689"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}