For me, home was the heart of Moore and the focal point of the universe. If it wasn’t happening there it wasn’t happening at all because you see the world literally revolved around our home, everyone’s home, a home that knew no strangers and a home bursting with all the love. The span of almost 35 years of memories is an endless abyss spanning from the moment we left south OKC and headed for the promised land of Moore, to the final day where Moms mounted the track hoe and took the initial 10 minutes worth of heartbreaking demolition swipes at our badly broken & tattered but ironically still standing home. Initially I could not understand why mom was so protective after everything salvageable was cleared from the home and placed into storage but after spending time over there alone, it became clearer by the minute and eventually that question was answered through my own reflection. The time I spent getting the house ready to the point of demo was part of a healing process for my own soul to reflect back and hear the walls of this hallowed home echoing the laughs, the love, the screams and cries of everyone living and those dear to our hearts that have passed. A museum of memories, this was a place that had an impact on too many lives possible to count. A place where meals were prepared with all the tradition and love passed from generations.
Dinner was always on the table at dinner time with enough to feed a small army twice over and leftovers to feed many latecomers. The scent of pine sol cleaner, bleach and downy fabric softener was engrained into the building materials. You would’ve thought the home was self cleaning but we all know the force behind the obsessive cleanliness. I can’t help but mention and appreciate the years of hard work that went into providing for our home and all that it stood for. Memories? Yeah I have em….
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