Whitney Haney

The last time I walked up Sharon's stairs, I thought to myself what a liability they might be.  Who would have ever guessed those panes of wood and a small closet beneath would eventually protect the life of such a cherished part of my own, and my families' hearts.

(photo courtesy of Melissa Hall)

I have a hard time attaching any particular memory with the house, but I do know that ever since I was a child the oddly-shaped room upstairs has been a glimpse into the majestic past that shaped this family. 

The carpet told stories of tiny feet pitter-pattering back and forth (I make it sound cute, what I mean is more like a herd of puppies- big ones), hide and seek,  or times of not-so-tiny feet if you had the right mind lending you a glimpse into the way-back past.  I can't speak for the times before I even existed.  But the walls spoke for themselves.  Those stripes... Even playing hide and seek as a little girl or watching the twins be mini-frankenstieins in the recent past(I somehow skipped the time between the two, I swear) that room has always felt the same.  The safety of that room, with those walls and those stripes, and those couches that felt like laying in the clouds, still gave me a sense of comfort that I'm sure many others have felt before... You know the feeling, that the more things change, the more they will undoubtedly stay the same.  

No particular conversation comes to mind, but when I think of Sharon's kitchen my heart beats a little faster and I get a feeling of warmth that radiates all the way down to my fingertips and toes (that's Love for anyone who didn't know).  I will never let go of the laughter, the stories, the faces, the smiles, the occasional tears, the growth, the change, the conversation and the pure Life I experienced at that kitchen table.  

All we really have in life is a bunch of moments strung together, times like those that the family has shared at 800 Bouziden (that's right I think??) give our moments a cohesiveness, that in hindsight looks almost as sweet as fiction.  Those are the times help us create our story, as a family and as individuals.  They remind us that while our individual spirits are precious for their peculiarities, it is the unifying force of unconditional love that keeps our spirits whole.  So while I hate to see the old house go, there's no denying that God has bigger plans than anyone can image.  And at the end of the day, we still have Sharon, and we still have love.  The rest was just stuff.  

See you in the Next Chapter     namaste