The Key to my Heart -Literally-

I love when I have a piece of my past which I can hold close to my heart... forever. I'm not talking about photos, or teddy bears, or jewelry passed down from generation. Honestly, my little piece might seem a little silly. Why it's nothing but an old house key. A key that unlocks a door to a home.

Pretty simple huh? It's gold in color and pretty standard for the most part. However this key is the only thing I have left from my childhood. Do I have you a little confused now? Well you see I grew up in a small town in Massachusetts. My parents moved into the home right before I was born. It had been abandoned for 15yrs before they bought it [eek... I know]. However my Dad, who has been in Construction for 45yrs and owns his own company saw the opportunity for renovation. The house was in shambles [so I was told... because remember, I was still in the oven when they bought it].

My home was built in 1729. Yes... the house was THAT old, as are a lot of homes around New England, so you can just imagine how much 'renovation' was needed. Well over the years the rents' pulled it off. Granted now that I look back, early 90's decor wasn't exactly 'classy' or matches up to today's standards of decor, but for the time, it was a nice home. Everything was gutted and they even added on a very large wrap around front porch. We also had about 3acres of land and a barn with our horses.

That was the house that my sister and I both grew up in and I can't help but think about the ol' girl on 81 School St... where she once stood.

On Super Bowl Sunday of 2002, I was 17yrs old. I was at work and my parents were at a Super Bowl Party. It was nearing towards the end of my shift when my floor supervisor called me over to the podium [I was a cashier at a Grocery store]. He said I had a phone call. I figured it was one of my parents asking me to bring something on the way home... but I was surprised to hear that on the other end was my neighbor... Okay... Maybe my neighbor forgot to pick up some Milk and is going to ask me if I could pick some up for her?

If only that were the case. Instead, and I will never forget, she was frantic. Asking me if my parents were still at the SB Party. Than she said my house was on fire. I quickly dropped the phone and ran out of the store, my eyes filling up with water. I didn't really think anything, I couldn't think anything. I was numb... I didn't know how to react in a situation like this.

The home that I grew up in. Shared every Christmas with my family in, watched movies on family nights in, built forts in the living room with my sister in... was on fire.

By the time I got to the house it was torched. All that was left was the outer shell. My parents were there, sitting in the truck. My dad... although to this day doesn't know it, but I saw him wander off while he cried. I have never seen my Dad cry. My mom was numb and didn't say anything. She stared into the woods for a good 3hrs. Not one word spoken. Not one facial expression made. It was gone... everything.

Over the next few months as we tried to get back on our feet from nothing but the clothes on our backs, what was left of our home was torn down and hauled off. The hole where the cellar used to be, was filled in. A new house was built, right there on the same chunk of land. A brand new home with 3000+Sq Ft. Everything you could imagine, was in that home. All the bells and whistles.

But it wasn't the same. I never really accepted that new home. I never grew attached to it. Within 7 months I ended up leaving for the Military... The rest is history.

You might have noticed in the Wall-Art tutorial from yesterdays post, a frame with one simple key inside.

This key was with me the night of the house fire. It was the key I used to unlock the front door, to the home I grew up in. Everything in the house was gone. Photos, videos, things that had been passed down through the family. Every single thing in that house was burned. The only thing I have left to symbolize my childhood home is the images in my head and this one, simple... little key. -It's amazing how something so simple and maybe even to some, meaningless... is so so powerful.

I have kept this key with me through my travels. Locked away... I told myself that one day when I own my own home with my family... I will take this key and I will find the perfect little spot for it. A spot where I can, every so often, look over and replay the memories in my mind from the home that this key once unlocked.

And that my friends... is the story of my little ol' Key.


Note: If your wondering how the house burned... we used to heat with a wood stove and there was apparently a crack in the Flue. A very tiny crack... a few cinders had gotten through that crack earlier in the day and started a fire within the wall. By the end of the night the fire intensified and went through the entire house. SO... if you heat with a chimney or a wood stove... make sure you regularly check your chimneys to make sure they are in good standing and operating condition!