Let me wax poetic about life and how I think you can compare it to a house, or actually more aptly a home. Maybe I'm off by a million miles here, or maybe I've hit the nail on the head. Been awhile since I tried to wax poetic, so let's see how it turns out.
Every life is built like a house, needing a strong foundation, walls to protect us and places to hide that which we want secret. It's our home. Here's how I think we each do it.
A life's foundation is laid by those that reared us. The basement contains all that which came before our entry into the world. What our parents and teachers give us becomes the cement and timber that provides the flooring and structure to the house. The design of which is based on our early personality. Who we want to be, who we are and who we aren't.
The walls of our house are made of the many close people in our lives. They provide the protection from the world. Keep us dry and safe.
Each room of the house is made of our close relationships. Those that defined and continue to define us. At times those rooms change. Sometimes the look, sometimes the whole design.
The closets hold our deepest secrets. Usually found in the rooms of those we know best. At times though the secrets are hidden away in closet known to only us.
The attic is where we keep the dusty old memories we care no longer to regularly revisit. Memories that once defined us but are now unneeded.
At times our lives require the house to be expanded to make more room. At times our lives change and require the house to be completely remodeled, given the semblance of a new or fresh start. It's still the same home, the same foundation; we only get the one house.
Then one day we pass into the veil and the various parts of our life that are important to others get moved. Much will be discarded. Some will end up in our children's basements. A very little may end up adoring the walls or bookshelves of our children and our children’s children. Those memories they hold most dear. Those memories that make the family, a family.
Each home is different. Each home a life.
So, did I nail it, or am I totally out in an empty field?