Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Scent of Neff Road

"Stop!" my son said. "Do you smell that?"

My daughter had come over to the house to help with the painting last night. The heat in the house was barely tolerable and paint fumes filled the air along with the smells of other work done on the house. There are few minutes any more when my children and I are alone. I'm not sure they realize how special these moments were as they carried on a constant conversation.

My children have not been back to Neff Road since the farm was sold. This morning my sister, Peg, and I were chuckling that our sons all own old houses and are working on them. No new homes for these Loxley grandsons.  Old walls dressed in fresh newness and rooms expanded to open up into a new generation. Wallpaper covered with paint, crooked walls taped and plastered, old hardwoods looking once more fresh and new, all parts of this love of old homes.

My son has often been disturbed that we didn't keep the farm. Perhaps we have all had those same feelings of missing the fields, barns and most of all, my parents. In some way, my son is once more recapturing a time and place he loved bringing his family to a place of new memories.

"Do you smell it?" he said.

"The farm! I smell the farm!" his sister exclaimed.

I stood there choked up not of the memory of a past scent from the farm back that lane. No, I was listening to my children thrilled to once more be catapulted back to Neff Road. These were my two children who will gladly pass on the past to the future.

Ah, sweet Neff Road.

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