She was headed north on I87, when she heard this song come on the radio. The singer and the words awoke something in her southern belle heart. She reached to turn it up and pull over to listen to the lyrics.
I know they say you can't go home again,
I just had to come back one last time,
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam,
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine.
It was as if she had written the song herself. She had missed home terribly since she had left. And hearing of her parents passing two years ago had been a devastating blow. She remembered with a smile, the day she had left her handprints in the front sidewalk. She wiped the tears away and closed her eyes to the foreign scenery around her. Instantly she was back home running through the halls laughing and playing.
Up those stairs in that little back bedroom,
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar,
I bet you didn't know under that live oak,
My favorite dog is buried in the yard.
She remembered all the tunes she had played on that used Yamaha. Playing her favorites for the invisible audience. She briefly touched her lips as she remembered David and how he had helped her bury Sam. Even though they had only been twelve, at the time, they had insisted on digging the grave themselves.
Mama cut out pictures of houses for years,
From Better Homes and Gardens magazine,
Plans were drawn and concrete poured,
Nail by nail and board by board,
Daddy gave life to mama’s dream.
She recalled that house vividly and how it had came to be. Her mom and dad telling the story almost nightly. How her mom had loved that house and her dad had loved her mom. Together they had brought a dream to life. That's how it had always been. They had always been together and even in the end had died together. That's the kind of love she longed for.
You leave home and you move on and do the best you can,
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am.
She had made friends and lost friends since she had embarked on this journey years ago. But now she was starting to forget who she was and loosing herself wasn't an option. Before she could go to him she had one more journey to make. She needed to say goodbye.
She pulled back onto the highway and turned around at the next exit. With everything clear and heading in a familiar direction, she sang along with the rest of the tune.
“I thought if I could touch this place or feel it,
This brokenness inside of me might start healing,
Out here it's like I'm someone else,
I thought maybe I could find myself,
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave,
Won't take nothing but a memory,
From the house that built me. "
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Author's Chapter Notes:
song - house that built me - miranda lambert