Little Pink Houses For You and Me 

img_5212-1Just like the John Mellencamp song, we moved into a little pink house in an old part of town, this however is nothing like my American dream….

The neighborhood is not in a “bad” part of town per say but it’s old and unkept, everything here just feels a little dirtier, there are stray animals prowling the streets, trash lining every fence line, and the people although nice enough sit on their porches smoking endlessly.

It’s like taking a step back a decade or two, to a land where junk is collected like treasure and it clutters porches and garages.

4923 — The Pink House on the Corner

This was the house my husband lived in till he was 4, when his family moved to Denver. Since then it has been a rent house and as the town grew and the neighborhood aged the sweet dreamy newlywed, family of three dreams have been erased from these walls, buried under three different non-cohesive paint jobs. Paralleled by broken tiles, carpet that has held two decades of hard life lived on borrowed time, and a hot water heater that hums and pops a tune we have learned to fall asleep to.

Although living here has been just short of a nightmare, it seems so idealistic and ironic to be living in the house that held the homecoming of dreams and the culmination of love for my sweet in-laws as we anxiously await our new construction build to wrap up. The home we will bring our babies home to.

As the deadlines and closing dates get pushed back once more, I’ve prayed for purpose to be found in this little pink house.

Instinct and prayer led me to bake cookies and write a card and walk over and introduce ourselves.

We met Pat at 4322 and her husband waves to us from the porch as we pull up the drive.

And Sharon at 4324, who came out from behind large signs proclaiming BEWARE DOG and NO SOLICITORS, with the kindest smile full of warmth.

4325 has a toddler who rides her tricycle in the yard. But it seems they moved out last weekend while we were traveling. It took me three days before breaking in to the cookies we had set aside for them.

It is unclear how long we will be living in the little pink house, but for now I guess it’s home, and we will keep dreaming.

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