 Empty house
She was always inviting with open arms
Hamid & Afsaneh Bakhsheshi
July 7, 2004
iranian.com
I stood there in the middle of the living room looking
at the empty house. It looked like somebody sucked the life out
of it but still it was inviting me, "stay one more night".
For a
little over ten years my wife Afsaneh and I lived in our Orange
County home. It was a new home when we moved in. Like many
newly weds, it lacked furniture and proper dÈcor throughout.
But by the end of ten years, everything seemed to belong. All the
couches,
chairs, pictures, vases, and colors seemed to have found
a way to merge.
In that moment, standing in the middle of the house,
the whole history passed in front of my eyes, like a slow movie.
It seemed
like the house was never empty. Even though we don't have
any children and our parents don't live with us, the
house was always full.
It was a "half-way" house for so many.
For that one cousin who broke up with her boyfriend and came over
to stay for
a few days to cry her eyes out; for that other cousin who separated
from her husband and stayed with us with her wonderful little girl
and her mom, my aunt; for that brother-in-law, who also stayed
with us with a broken heart; the other brother-in-law, who stayed
with us for a year and I don't know why; and even at the
very end for the lovely single mother who didn't have anywhere
else to go and stayed with us for a month or so and made us fall
in love with his little boy. They all left something behind. Some
left a few sox and underwear, but for the most part, memories.
Lovely,
and at times, ears piercing sounds of children, sound of father-in-law,
who would get up real late in the mornings and would
pleasantly kiss me on the forehead. Sounds of that damn squicky
garage door, that I could never fix. Sounds of sprinklers
that went off early in the morning. Sounds of Persian music
from the next door neighbors, who moved in about a year ago and
were absolutely a delight. They will all be missed.
It
was a place of gathering. So many friends, who would bring
their girl friends and boy friends for us to see and approve. So
many
relatives, who truly made us happy by staying with us and allowing
us to share what we had with them. The door to the house was always
open to just about anyone. All of our friends and relatives knew
where the key was or what was
the code for the garage door opener.
There were countless nights when we would gather
with some friends and their friends, whom we had just met, around
the fireplace,
play music, tell jokes, read Hafez, or just stare at the fire.
The
house was such a house. It was like an old and kind grandmother.
She was always inviting with open arms, entertaining, full
of love, and always had something to eat. Most of our family/friends
would mention that when they stayed with us, it seemed like we
were always eating!
The house, even though not sold, will be missed.
Even if we moved back into it, it would never be the same again.
The winter Sunday
morning breakfasts, when I couldn't play soccer with the guys,
or Abgoosht (Lamb Stew) gatherings.
The dinner parties, little lunch get togethers with friends,
kids birthday parties, more dinners, and more dinners...
The family
room was the center of the house. The big, comfortable sectional
and big screen TV, who would put anyone to sleep at any
time, even during the World Cup football final. The many nights
by the heater outside, where we would sit and talk until early
hours in the morning or until the neighbors started complaining. Last
but not least, the love my wife and I have for one another, which
rooted and gathered strength in that house. All and all make
a package we left behind in the house.
We moved to Las Vegas
and as it was expected, the first three days of our inhabitance,
two of our friends with family were with us
and another good friend, who happened to be in town spent the
day with us yesterday. So, it seems like we're up and running.
It is as if we left a sign at the old house that reads, "we
moved to a new location, please come and see us. You know where
the key is!"
 So, for all of those whom we didn't
get a chance to say good-bye or simply did't want to, since
it is a bit painful, we'll see you in Vegas. The key is
still in the light fixture at the front door and the code for the
garage door opener is the
same, 6969#!
Love,
Hamid & Afsaneh
.................... Say
goodbye to spam!
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Empty house
