October 30, 2008
The empty hallway
I had several criteria when I was looking for a home to buy almost fifteen years ago. I wanted three bedrooms, at least two baths, a yard for the dogs with some extra space for gardening … and a long hallway. I’d never lived in a house with a hallway before. The home where I spent most of my growing-up years had a small foyer-like square at the top of the stairs that served that function. The other homes I’ve lived in over the years had small spaces that gave onto bedrooms and bathrooms, but none had a proper hallway. I wanted a hallway where I could hang a portrait gallery of family photos and felt very fortunate to find a house that had all I wanted, including my long hallway.
You’ve seen slices of my hallway from time to time and gotten some glimpses of what hung there. Photos of family members have served as a backdrop for my self portraits on several occasions. It’s brought me a lot of joy to have that hallway, to see all of those photos every day and to share some of them with you. My hallway gallery has helped me keep my family close to my heart while I’ve lived so very far from them.
Last week I took all of the photos off of the wall so I could prep it for painting. Each frame left a ghost of itself, an outline that marked the place it has held these many years. Though the photographs were gone, my memory of them was strong. I could look at each one of those rectangles shaded on the walls and remember who had been represented there, what occasion had been commemorated. Here hung the photo of my nephew Michael in his hospital bed following his appendectomy. I can close my eyes and see the sprig print on his hospital gown. This larger blotch was a group portrait of my son and his friends preparing to board the bus the first time he went to Junior Deputy summer camp. Over there was a large frame filled with matted black and white photos from the fifties - my parents and us four kids during the Corsicana years, each taken in the town where I was born. Near the bathroom door hung a photo of me with three friends, reminding of the days when I had a social life that included dates and drinks and dinners and good times. My hallway of memories has kept my family close and my stories alive.
The family that buys my house will surely apply their own touches to turn this shelter of wood and plaster into a home of their own. The ghostly images from my own life have been oblitereated, painted over so they’ll have a clean slate to start with. Maybe they, too, have been waiting for a long hallway on which they will tell their stories and celebrate their lives. I hope so, but that will be their decision to make. The things that made this house my home are mostly packed up in boxes now, waiting until the day that I have a new place to clutter up with the detritus of my life. My affection for this house is weakening - it’s not really my home anymore. It’s just a house, waiting to embrace some new family and write its story in their hearts as they write their lives on its walls.
I don’t know what awaits me in Texas, but I know the features I’d like to have in my new home. I want three bedrooms, at least two baths, a yard with room for Lance to play and me to do some gardening … and a long hallway.
[tags]family photos, memories, nostalgia, photographs[/tags]
Posted by skeet @ 12:03 am • Home & Family
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October 30th, 2008 at 8:05 am, Anele Says:
Beautifully told. Can’t wait to see your new long hallway!
October 30th, 2008 at 5:59 pm, Blake Nagel Says:
Wow, you certainly have a strong and vivid imagination. I can’t believe you can remember every single picture that hung there previously. Amazing. I hope you will be happy in Texas, just beware of those nasty hurricanes.
November 2nd, 2008 at 6:21 am, The Scribe of Notting Hill Says:
The trouble with a long hallway is, as I’ve found, that it doesn’t get much light.
So I’ve lined mine with mirrors! It still doesn’t get much light, but it does get a lot of comments.