Dust Settles but Memories Linger

 One of the old houses on our block was recently sold, and although it was the victim of neglect amongst the proud homes that line our old established neighborhood, it was now devoid of any of the previously strangling foliage that all but hid the the front of it. The yard was completely stripped of every ancient tree, bush, and vine, and the house loomed lonely amongst the bare dirt and root piles. Surrounding the house were blue dumpsters that held various items of the massive yard clearing. As I road my bike towards the house this morning, a menacing sight caught my complete attention. A big yellow crane charged towards the gutted house, its neck outstretched, and its bucket head with the piecing fangs took a big chomp from the upper corner. There was a crunching of wood and and the tumbling of walls, as the iron beast swung it's ugly jaw of debris, and vomited into a waiting dumpster. I was thinking if this had been my home, I would probably be crying as I witnessed the savage attack on the past. Later in the day, I convinced myself that I needed a walk, and headed in the direction of the injured house. There was a big cloud of smoke where the house once stood, and the iron beast was chewing away at the concrete foundation. In less than a day, a house that stood for almost seven decades was gone. That home to many probably held fond memories of holiday celebrations, growing children, and the hustle and bustle of daily living. It may have also been home to tragedies, disillusions, and broken dreams, but these would have been well hidden behind doors and curtained windows. A house can keep a secret. Somewhere though, all these memories and secrets are being stored, shared, and remembered by it's past occupants, and its life was not lived in vain. Dust settles and a house is gone, but a home resides in the heart forever.