Wow it was a very powerful day yesterday as I went back through my childhood home on Van Pelt. What was so amazing is I could embrace this visit in truth and light where before I felt as if I had to hide what had happened there.
As I was driving down I-30 I began to get nervous about this visit, 8322 Van Pelt always makes me nervous. It was a house of pain, horror, and tragedy for me but I also know somewhere buried deep are memories of love , adoration, and a family life I can’t remember . So I braced the steering wheel and pleaded with God to bring forth more healing so I can move forward and hopefully bring to surface the memories that I know are buried under the pain. This plea to God brought tears to my eyes but I could feel His strength and the fear and dread left me.
As I exited St. Francis I began to get somewhat excited about the possibilities and what may happen. I also prepared myself for the onslaught of memories that were sure to come as they always do and so thankful for the strength that God has instilled in me to face these demons from my past head on, so I can stand in complete victory over the darkness.
Driving down St. Francis I glanced down the streets where my childhood friends used to live. First Bellingham, next Londonderry, and then Jim Miller. Deciding to take a left on Jim Miller I drove down to Dorrington and took a right glancing at the home that still has the blue trim paint where Glen and Gwen Phillips had lived,remembering his tragic death when I was in eighth grade. Silently I said a prayer and decided to go up my alley .
As I drove up the alley I had a memory surface of David teaching me to ride a bike, we were at the end of our driveway and I sat upon the bicycle with the banana seat as David held me up. He gave me a push, a little too hard, and I went down the alley careening into the Cashs' chain link fence falling over onto the cement. David came running and doctored my bloodied knee and he even bought me some candy. Later when my dad got home David got blamed for my injury. I'm not sure if I played this up or not by exaggerating my injury ,it was somewhat of a sad memory because although I remembered the love and doting of my daddy and even David I felt somewhat guilty that David got into trouble. I think my dad was very hard on David so this memory brought mixed emotions.
As I pulled up to the driveway I remembered the yellow car that my dad had parked there after his best friend committed suicide. As a child I would peer into the windows looking at the bloodstained seats wondering why on earth my dad left that car there for me to see. This was only 6 months after David’s death and it was always so very disturbing. Shaking the memory away I drove on up the alley and remembered playing kickball, red rover, flag football and other games with my childhood neighbors . These memories brought a smile to my face.
Finally I turned left on St. Francis then left on Van Pelt and parked my car ready to go into my old home. Nervously I knocked on the door , which was the original door my dad had installed. Seconds later I was greeted with a warm hug by Judy ( the current owner of the home) and she invited me in asking me to sit at the kitchen table and have a cup of coffee. It was a perfect beginning .
As we drank our coffee I just shared my life with her sitting at the kitchen table with the bay window that I remembered so vividly. As I looked down the utility room I asked her if I could use the restroom remembering there was a powder bath down past the washer and dryer. Walking towards the bath I touched the place that held the built in ironing board. I was somewhat amazed at my recollection for details and smiled and sighed deeply as I began to relax.
Judy and I talked for over an hour which was so essential for this visit, I am so thankful to her for her hospitality and willingness to spend time with me. What a huge blessing. She then told me to tour the home alone and take all the pictures that I wanted. Standing up I wiped my palms on my jeans because they were sweating slightly then I grabbed my phone and went through my childhood home ready to face my past and embrace my future.
As expected the tragic memories arose first as I passed the different rooms: David’s room was now an office but I just remembered it as the forbidden room with the shut doors that I was too scared to enter. Walking into it I realized it was just a room and held no power over me.
Next I went to the powder room where mother was passed out most often but this time it hurt a little less as I noticed the detail of the tile counter tops and smiled again at the little custom touches my dad made when he built this home in 1963.
After that I went into my parents’ bedroom and as always remembered the fire and my mother in a drunken haze trying to put sheets on a bed frame thinking a mattress was there. I stood where I did in 1979, back then I was wearing my cheerleading uniform for the very last time and I just watched my mother as she tripped over the frame laughing somewhat bitterly until I got really scared and helped her walk to my childhood room where I tucked her into bed.
The emotions then were so conflicting because I felt such love and hate. Yesterday I just felt sad for the pain my mother could not endure and for the little girl within me who was left with far too many responsibilities but I also felt such thankfulness for who I am today and for surviving. Smiling I walked into my teenage room feeling relief.
This room was my escape from my reality where I danced, sang, and watched endless TV . A room where I felt safe and secure.
Next was my pink bathroom that I loved with my triangular bathtub.
Again I was amazed at how it was just the same as it was back then. Smiling I moved into my childhood room where I found my mother’s body and again I felt sadness which is normal but the darkness I always felt before was gone. It was just room and nothing more.
Feeling somewhat empowered by the revelation that the darkness was finally gone and that this house had no evil power over me I went into the den. My main memories of this room were celebrating my 17th birthday alone on the blue shag rug and then a year and a half later sitting in the exact same place waiting anxiously for my dad to arrive after finding my mother’s body.
As the sadness passed I looked towards the fireplace remembering the little blue Christmas stocking made out of felt which had a snowman on it. On Christmas morning it would be on the hearth haven fallen from the mantle filled with an orange, chocolate coin candy, and some almonds as well as other things. Then I remembered as a small child sneaking down the hall peering into the den to see what Santa Claus had brought me and running into my parents bedroom and jumping between them begging them to get up and my daddy hugging me tight telling me to wait a little longer because it was only 4 in the morning and falling back to sleep snuggled in his arms. That was the greatest memory of all. A little more healing took place yesterday and Judy said I could come back as many times as I needed. I feel so very blessed.
Please look at a few more pictures that I took in the gallery area. God is so good !!!
Susan Washington
