Memory of a Home

The door slammed shut as the kid, a teenager soon to graduate high school, leaves the house. This isn't an old house, nor is it a new one. It has been there for what seems like ages surrounded by the same patched road and houses that were maybe a few years older, or younger. Nevertheless, it has seen many people come and go. It remembers the builders and painters who came and went for months before never showing up again until weeks later when they were then working on the next new house in the neighborhood. Its first family was a family of three, mom, dad, and little Cassie. They stayed for a while filling the home with furniture, laughter, and pictures. One day, a new child was brought home, and they named him, Jackson, Jackie for short. It was a few months later that the dad never came home. Tearfully and wearing black, they moved. The house was no longer a home, for it had no family.
It wasn't long until several young men moved in. Their daily lives were surrounded with school, work, girlfriends.... One day, the big guy with family problems came home drunk after breaking up with his girl. He fought with his roommate and left. The other eight left after graduating with smiles or straight faces.
After the college boys left, its next residents were a family of newlyweds. They had their first few kids there, and they left when their oldest was entering high school and their youngest, twins, were five. They didn't want to leave though. Allison or Allie for short, the younger of the twins whispered goodbye and left a promise.
Years passed with people coming and going, and the "home" now understood that it was a home full of memories of its past, present, and future occupants. It stood as a silent witness to these peoples' ordinary lives full of ups and downs.
One day, a key entered the lock and the door opened. Little Cassie, now a realtor, walked in to show the house to a new owner. Cassie left after a while, leaving the successful young woman there. "I'm home." Allie said, keeping her promise from years ago.
It was now her son that left the house. The home looked at the pictures of their life that hung on all of the walls. It thought of the people who spent part of their lives there and wondered where their life ended. Yes, there had been many new beginnings and many departures, and there would be many more. However, it would stand there welcoming them, witnessing their lives, and watching them leave. It was "Home" for the people, and they were its family.
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