Do you ever notice the view in your windows?
Our homes are full of windows and it seems like they are most generally looked out.
At our house, we use the back ones to see which birds are on the feeders. Our bedroom window is handy for seeing who the dog is barking at and if anyone has pulled in our driveway.
The ones at the front door tell us who is ringing the doorbell before we ever open the door. The west one in Little Bit’s room hosts some amazing sunsets.
On the right evening, our huge dining room window lends itself to a show of brilliant moonlight. Can’t tell you how many times Little Bit and I have danced there in moonlight so bright it’s like someone flipped a switch.
In November, I wrote a story called “Windows”. In it, I mention my grandma’s maple table that’s next to her kitchen windows and the view that overlooks the Missouri River bottom.
Grandma passed away a week ago and her service was Saturday. Afterwards, some of our family went out to her farm. Before we arrived, I was a bit sad to think of being there without her. That sadness quickly disappeared when everyone started telling stories.
In “Windows” , I wrote that when I “look” in her windows, I either “see” our family crammed around her table eating her homemade rolls and seven layer salad, or laughing and telling stories. That! It was exactly that. The stories! The laughing!
After dark, I went outside and stood at the windows, looking in. Suddenly, I had a realization. Up to that point, all of my memories had the adults of my childhood filling those chairs, curled over in belly laughs.
This time we were the adults in those seats around her table. Our kiddos were the ones etching memories of us, the adults in their childhoods, sitting in those maple chairs, telling stories, and laughing like crazy. How cool is that?
Before I went in, something caught my eye. A light coming from the living room window. What? As long as I can remember, those curtains have been closed. I stepped over and was graced with a brand new memory. My nephew was sitting next to a beautiful Christmas tree.
Don’t you just love those kinds of gifts? Sometimes windows are pretty amazing, if you’re on the outside looking in.
2 thoughts on “Outside Looking In”
This is so beautiful Jess. Windows and memories. The cycle of life, that’s what it is. xox
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Thank you. I wish you could see the picture. I’ll work on that. When I switched to Hemingway, the picture moved. It makes the story. :)
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