Thank you, Tom. A beautiful benediction and recessional for what may not have been much of a house but was a cool dugout and crucial home plate for all you Titus players.
You're welcome, Quinton. I'm always grateful for your writer's eyes and heart! My great hope is that the family place has hit a home run with the bases loaded.
Oh, Tom what a wonderful heartfelt memories you share. Such great memories of The Titus Homestead and the family that filled it. Blessings Tom the eldest son😉Always, Lori
Once again, Tom, an engaging read. I felt your love for the house and your family. And I felt the grief of having to let the house and some of your family go. I bet that your writing of this piece was helpful to you. And I know it was helpful to me. Thanks so much for your honest and heartfelt sharing.
Thank you Rick! Yes, the "paper therapist," as you call it, seems to have helped. Since writing the piece, I am finally coming out of an extreme bout of insomnia. We all hope that our writing also helps others. Yours has certainly helped me.
A house is more than a house when you grew up there---a home with all the memories. I love the way you build this story --at first a passive rendering that builds to the fire and the raging flames and at last your emotions pouring out like smoke. Here's to the Titus home and yes--the new young family creating their own memories. That's a beautiful thing, too.
Thank you for this, Marina. Yes to homes! Apparently irony is harder to write than I thought. I met the new owners, and they are the perfect folks to carry the place into the future.
"we’re all learning how to let go here. You need to let go, too"
Our homes hold so much, moulded by us and steeped with the energies and experiences our lives unfurled there. I have no doubt the house needed to let go too, needed your permission, and perhaps to know it wasn't alone in its grief.
It is a beautiful language to know, that fluency you have with old houses.
A new family to shelter, with young kids and energy. May a new batch of wildlings build beautiful memories there.
Thank you for this, Mariah. Our houses and their inhabitants do become knit at a quantum level. Yes, my hope is for the family place to go on to new memories for new humans who need to anchor in a place.
Thank you, Tom. A beautiful benediction and recessional for what may not have been much of a house but was a cool dugout and crucial home plate for all you Titus players.
I can feel the heat of that fire.
You're welcome, Quinton. I'm always grateful for your writer's eyes and heart! My great hope is that the family place has hit a home run with the bases loaded.
As far as love goes, that house was a mansion. Thank you, Tom, for writing this.
What a beautiful comment, Deanna. Thank you.
Dances with Old Houses.
Lovely piece, Tom
Thank you, Beth. Hoping the new folks will learn to dance slow and close.
Oh, Tom what a wonderful heartfelt memories you share. Such great memories of The Titus Homestead and the family that filled it. Blessings Tom the eldest son😉Always, Lori
Thank you, Lori. From the eldest son to the eldest daughter. ❤️
Once again, Tom, an engaging read. I felt your love for the house and your family. And I felt the grief of having to let the house and some of your family go. I bet that your writing of this piece was helpful to you. And I know it was helpful to me. Thanks so much for your honest and heartfelt sharing.
Thank you Rick! Yes, the "paper therapist," as you call it, seems to have helped. Since writing the piece, I am finally coming out of an extreme bout of insomnia. We all hope that our writing also helps others. Yours has certainly helped me.
A house is more than a house when you grew up there---a home with all the memories. I love the way you build this story --at first a passive rendering that builds to the fire and the raging flames and at last your emotions pouring out like smoke. Here's to the Titus home and yes--the new young family creating their own memories. That's a beautiful thing, too.
Thank you for this, Marina. Yes to homes! Apparently irony is harder to write than I thought. I met the new owners, and they are the perfect folks to carry the place into the future.
"we’re all learning how to let go here. You need to let go, too"
Our homes hold so much, moulded by us and steeped with the energies and experiences our lives unfurled there. I have no doubt the house needed to let go too, needed your permission, and perhaps to know it wasn't alone in its grief.
It is a beautiful language to know, that fluency you have with old houses.
A new family to shelter, with young kids and energy. May a new batch of wildlings build beautiful memories there.
Thank you for this, Mariah. Our houses and their inhabitants do become knit at a quantum level. Yes, my hope is for the family place to go on to new memories for new humans who need to anchor in a place.