Tuesday, August 31, 2010

the house that built me.

It’s been about a week and I have listened to Miranda Lambert’s “The House That Built Me” about 100+ times. Clearly, I am borderline obsessed with this girl. Considering her career started with twangy, angry break-up/Buck-done-me-wrong songs, I am pleasantly surprised that she has penned such a touching/sentimental song. Having already memorized the song and planned a not so touching karaoke rendition for the near future, the song really got me thinking.

Now, sometimes my casual drives down the Memory Lane end up with an unfortunate and unplanned merge onto the Masochistic Nostalgia Freeway, so I’ll try to exit before that happens and my keyboard is covered in tears. Anyway, having moved around Texas a majority of my life, the houses came and went, and unfortunately some of the memories went with them. Like the front screen door in San Angelo I got my finger slammed in, or the sliding glass round back door I ran into full speed. And memories like the massive church functions with bonfires to boot in our beautiful house in the country outside of San Antonio. And my back bedroom in Plainview that had its own entrance that I would sneak out of after my parents went to sleep.

Looking back on those days when rent was free and life’s lessons came as rides in the backs of cop cars, trips to the ER, and more spankings than I care to remember… (On a non-sentimental side note: my life might not be that much different now… j/k). Anyway, these things are memories that have burned indelible images into my mind that serve as an emotional scrapbook/timeline/therapy fodder.

Since I bolted from my parents’ home before my graduation cap had time to hit the ground, my world has become completely different. When you take the time to look back on the things that made you who you are today, you also remember the dreams you had for yourself and the person you thought you would be in a time best described as “someday.” My world now revolves around the people who come into it, and unfortunately sometimes leave it. My family serves as a foundation that continues to keep me grounded and each member of it serves as an example of a hopeful “someday” world I could only hope to emulate. I am surrounded by a group of damaged friends that band together for the laughter, drinks, and dancing, but stick around and help pick up the pieces when one’s world falls apart.

I’m really not sure where this post started or whether or not it possesses a poignant ending punctuation, but these are the sorts of things that this song stir up in my soul when I hear this song. It’s beautiful.

Here's the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQYNM6SjD_o

1 comment:

Sarah B. SMITH said...

Thanks for sharing this post and this song. I hadn't heard this song, and it brought back so many memories of our childhood homes. I even really miss the Plainview house now more then ever, and sad we can't go back to it when we visit Dad. I know life goes on as it says, we can take the memories with us for sure. One of my favorites in the San Angelo house is standing in my room figuring out whether to wear my pink or purple shirt to go with the family to pick you up from the airport when you were a baby. I love you bro, and know that I miss you a lot. You still have a big sister that loves you and wants only the best for you.