You should know that I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I need to get something off my chest.
It’s been awhile since I’ve been back here.
The place that was my comfort. Where I felt secure, shielded from harm by the loving arms of two. The place where I grew up, molded by the most important people of my life. It's true what they say. It's not the specific feature of a place that someone remembers, but rather the memories or emotions that we associate it with. Alas, this place is no different. The dining room was the place where where I bumped my head straight through a chair when I was a little boy. The kitchen was the place that Mum patiently taught me how to cook. Then, there’s
the hallway where Dad and I completed the most "awesome" re-painting job.
That's what engulfs me when I'm here. At home.
Today, something is gone.
Somehow, it is not the same anymore. Even if the "man" of the house shares the same last name as us.
Ever since Dad passed away, a lot has happened. Mum has happily married once more, to Dad's brother, Uncle Claude.
It sickens me that he's now the "king" of the mountain. Can't Mum see through it? What will happen to this house? The house filled with those warm memories? I'll tell you what, Uncle Claude owns it now. Both on paper as well as its soul. I seriously don't know what went through Mum's mind.
To me, it's as if she's buried everything about Dad along with his body in the middle of the local cemetery. He was that loved around here. How can she do this?
Uncle Claude probably had something to do with that, with his constant hissing. Like a snake, slithering, pouncing on its prey. Despite all this, she's still the same person who cared for me, nurtured me. Like Dad. She's still my Mum and I love her every minute of every day. Despite all of this.
Maybe, someday I'll understand.