Sadness sometimes suddenly appears,
Like an unsung song in the back of my mind.
Driving down Cannons Lane, I pass my old house and it whispers to me.
The gray stone stands so old and sadly scarred from years of weather.
The windows seem to stare and follow me as I slowly drive by.
The front trees that we planted stand tall and strong, guarding each side.
The cracked driveway beckons me to drive up to the garage just one more time..
The house had a life of its own, from its uneven wooden floors to the glassed in sunroom that shined soft yellow in the morning.
So many memories and sadness strikes my heart as I pass.
And always I wonder what went wrong?
I always dreamed of living there forever within the ivy walls and in front of the huge fireplace.
The day I showed my daughter the secret, hidden hole behind the hall bookcase, her eyes lit up with wonder.
Sometimes in my dreams, I wonder through the empty rooms like the heroine in the book “Rebecca.”
I search for some things I might have left behind but never can remember where I left them.
My footsteps echo in the empty, lonely rooms and I open and shut the corner hutch doors that housed my rose china.
I miss the smell of history that lived within the walls and hope that my story will survive there also.
The story of my memories,
The story of my happiness,
The story of my loss,
And my song of sadness.