This is the House that built me-

The photo is the home I grew up in with my parents ~ Fifteen years of my life as a youngster until I married in 1974.

Last week I had a dream about my dad. Now, is there anything to our dreams are they trying to tell us something? Or are they just an overflow of our emotions, wishes, fears, etc? I dreamed that I had gone to the home I grew up in with my parents. And there was a card on the front porch, addressed to my family. It said, I worked with and was in the Navy with your dad, I liked him a lot, he was a fine man. I just stopped by to give you all my condolences on the death of your Father. I was crying in the dream, thinking why did he bring it here, to this home.

They have not lived here for over 35 years, and my dad passed away three years ago. So, why now I thought, why this card three years later, I was thinking in my dream. Never gave any thought to why I was standing on the porch of my childhood home in that dream, the home I had not seen or been in for 35 years. But I knew in the dream that it was no longer our home somehow.

I leaned up against the front door, it flew open, and I went in. It was just as I had remembered, but it had new beautiful golden hardwood floors throughout, they were oak and so pretty. I thought wow, this makes the home look much bigger. I felt the same, I could feel my childhood with all the emotions and feelings come rushing back to me, while in there.

So after that dream after Church, I decided to go by the old home place while driving by I took out my cell and was about to snap a photo when a lady appeared in the front glass door, and threw up her hands as if to say “what are you doing” I didn’t want her to think I was casing her home, so I pulled over, thinking ok, Debbie, just walk up and tell her you just wanted one photo, just one, and why.

So, I started my walk up the drive, tears flowing, overcome by emotions, I thought I had under control before ever deciding to walk up and explain. When I made it up the stairs I was met at the door by a man now. I could hardly speak, as I said, I was overcome with emotion. He was so kind, and as I began trying to explain who I was, why I was there and why I was taking a photo of his home, so I explained, he said oh it’s ok honey, please, take all the photos you want.

I then looked through the open door from where he was standing and I saw the most beautiful golden oak hardwood floors, just like in my dream. I was like, wow. I thanked them for allowing me to get a photo allowing a perfect stranger to come and take photos and allowing me to share briefly why I was even there to begin with. It was so good to go back there. I felt this dream was meant for me to go there once again one last time after all these years to reflect, remember, and feel those emotions of being a kid again and living in that home. Back to the House that built me.

The dream was the driving force for my going back there, otherwise, I never would have done that on my own, but for some reason, I had to go, it has been over 35 years since I’d been there.

Thank you, God, and Dad, for the wonderful memories.