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    Headstall
  • Headstall
  • Author
  • 04/25/2017
  • 264 Words
  • 3,172 Views
  • 29 Comments
The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Cozy Contemplations - 1. Scrawls

Pristine doesn't exist when children occupy your life.

Cozy Contemplations

 

 

Chapter 1 Scrawls

 

 

I could never ignore the writings on these walls

Faded scribbles and gouges from another time

Prophetic expressions of the grownups to come

 

I move around this quiet, slumbering room

Once shared by two boisterous brothers

And see only beauty in the marred finish

 

Crude hearts, flowers, and stickmen adorn

Sure proof my daughters lent their hands

To the time-worn and child-like decorations

 

Behind the bed is a line of crooked houses

While the dresser hides four printed signatures

And, God knows what that is… a horse? A dog?

 

I can still picture blanket forts and cardboard caves

In a room that needs attention in the worst way

But I can’t bring myself to desecrate such a shrine

 

My kids and their laughter live in this room still

Though they’ve long moved on to other places

The scrawls they once thought cleverly hidden

 

Are reminders of little arms around my neck

Sleeping, comatose bodies carried gently to bed

And kisses planted on soft and rosy cheeks

 

I wouldn’t paint over a Michelangelo, would I?

And these are no less masterpieces to my eyes

Drawn in that quicksilver time of innocence and wonder

 

As long as this is my house, the refresh can wait

These walls are a book to be cherished over and over

For there are a thousand treasured stories here

 

I’ll change those curtains, though

To slatted wooden blinds I think

And that multi-striped rug really has to go….

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed a father's meandering foray into the past.
Copyright © 2017 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Valkyrie
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It's lovely, Gary.  While I don't have kids, it reminded me of when I was doing renovations before moving into my current house.  There's a room upstairs with a crawlspace off of it, and while I was too claustrophobic to go into it myself, my mom crawled in and found a set of tiny books.  They looked to be from the '50s and were very colorful children's tales.  I could just imagine how that space that looked so tiny to adults must have been a haven for small children.  I can picture them curled up and reading or talking or playing or whatever their minds led them to contemplate.  Whenever I move i'm going to make sure the books stay with the house.  They're such little treasures.  Thanks for the memory! 

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Headstall
28 minutes ago, Valkyrie said:

It's lovely, Gary.  While I don't have kids, it reminded me of when I was doing renovations before moving into my current house.  There's a room upstairs with a crawlspace off of it, and while I was too claustrophobic to go into it myself, my mom crawled in and found a set of tiny books.  They looked to be from the '50s and were very colorful children's tales.  I could just imagine how that space that looked so tiny to adults must have been a haven for small children.  I can picture them curled up and reading or talking or playing or whatever their minds led them to contemplate.  Whenever I move i'm going to make sure the books stay with the house.  They're such little treasures.  Thanks for the memory! 

Thanks, Val. What a charming story. My children have made my house the home it is. Their touches are everywhere even though only one is at home now. It's why I held onto this farm for those years I lived in the city... recently, I was faced with a decision, and I couldn't bring myself to leave this place. Thanks for the wonderful comment and the support... cheers... Gary....

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Headstall

Headstall 306,314

Posted (edited)

42 minutes ago, hohochan657 said:

I don't know how I should feel ...

Fond memories that warm the heart

OR

The incessant passing of time - all good things will / must come to an end ...

What is wrong with me ??

Nothing is wrong with you, hoho :) . You can feel both if you want. We, as humans, are always reexamining what was, what is, and what will be... our thoughts are seldom static, nor are our feelings. What makes us smile one day, can make us cry the next :hug: Thank you for your reading and your support... your voice is appreciated... cheers... Gary....

Edited by Headstall
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ColumbusGuy

My house had some memories stored in it, but not of any children I know of...curtain rods, an old double-breasted suit from the '30s in the attic which fit me perfectly...and in the basement, tacked to the wall by the stairs, a family tree of one of the later families who lived here, the last of whom I believe was a priest.

When my mom died in 2007, among her things I found she'd saved an old handwriting book I'd used in second grade, a mother's day card from fist, a pair of glasses when I was probably a year old...and a couple of my earliest (terrible) sci-fi stories.  Among her pictures were ones of me I barely remember, the earliest of a nurse holding me in one hand in the hospital hooked up to tubes because I was two months premature....Nothing ever spoke clearer to me of her love than these keepsakes from my childhood.

 

Thank you for bringing those memories back with your reminiscences.

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Headstall

You just described a parent's love, CG :heart: . I have so many of those keepsakes, and they mean the world to me. I have to say, it's a little creepy that you tried on that suit :huh:... what if it belonged to a ghost who was watching you? :) . I think it incredibly touching your mother held onto your earliest stories... reading that made me tear up. My mom had a poem I wrote I had no recollection of, so thank you for reminding me of it... yeah, that poem sucked, but she thought it was something special... I didn't get it then, but I get it now... cheers, my friend... Gary....

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Headstall
20 minutes ago, ColumbusGuy said:

My house had some memories stored in it, but not of any children I know of...curtain rods, an old double-breasted suit from the '30s in the attic which fit me perfectly...and in the basement, tacked to the wall by the stairs, a family tree of one of the later families who lived here, the last of whom I believe was a priest.

When my mom died in 2007, among her things I found she'd saved an old handwriting book I'd used in second grade, a mother's day card from fist, a pair of glasses when I was probably a year old...and a couple of my earliest (terrible) sci-fi stories.  Among her pictures were ones of me I barely remember, the earliest of a nurse holding me in one hand in the hospital hooked up to tubes because I was two months premature....Nothing ever spoke clearer to me of her love than these keepsakes from my childhood.

 

Thank you for bringing those memories back with your reminiscences.

 

  • Like 3
Headstall
2 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

These are beautiful lines, a perfect way to approach marks made on the walls. This is proof that laughter and joy can live for a kong, long time.

Thanks, Parker. I'm pleased you liked this one. It lifted me to a different place than I've been lately... laughter and joy can live forever in our minds and on our 'walls.' We have to cherish and protect them, though... because, in the end.... Cheers... Gary.... 

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Headstall
1 hour ago, Aviana said:

The fond memories of a father...it was lovely!! It was nostalgic; the essence of childhood in every corner of house and the times that had passed coming back as memories!! Somehow, it reminded me of my school farewell (it was like saying bye to my younger self)...I had a bittersweet feelings reading this!! Wonderful writing!!

Thank you so much, Aviana! I am a dad before everything else, and it has brought me such joy. This house, the whole farm, is filled with memories, and  it's why I hold onto it. I'm pleased you felt the things you did... this one is special to me... again, thank you, and cheers... Gary....

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