tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post5756873232126494120..comments2023-10-29T01:23:25.535-07:00Comments on Beth Kephart Books: HomecomingBeth Kepharthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14236487532413398431noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-27965287992252817752009-03-06T04:51:00.000-08:002009-03-06T04:51:00.000-08:00Miss Em, the honor of knowing you over time is beg...Miss Em, the honor of knowing you over time is beginning to feel as if I have some glimpses into your past.<BR/><BR/>And Anna. Oh. What a story.Beth Kepharthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14236487532413398431noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-29352411108696748502009-03-05T17:05:00.000-08:002009-03-05T17:05:00.000-08:00Shortly after we made our "big" move from Houston ...Shortly after we made our "big" move from Houston to Virginia (I was 14), my friend across the street wrote to say that our heater - the one up in our attic that my dad was always working on, banging with a hammer, cussing at - had exploded during the night and burned our house to the ground. (Fortunately, everyone got out in time.)<BR/><BR/>It was the oddest feeling, even more so when she mailed me photos - the partial wall in my room with my old wallpaper still on it, facing out at the street.<BR/><BR/>They rebuilt our modest suburban home in identical fashion, and I've driven past it since, but it's never felt the same to me. Except for my tree in the front yard, where I always sat and did my homework and read and climbed. That was still there intact.<BR/><BR/>Thank God.<BR/><BR/>Wonderful post, as always, Beth.<BR/><BR/>XO<BR/><BR/>AnnaAnna Leflerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06968276973881720329noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-86557270226689264572009-03-05T11:36:00.000-08:002009-03-05T11:36:00.000-08:00What a touching post, Beth! There are places that...What a touching post, Beth! There are places that I visit every time I go home. It's nice to know that some things never change.<BR/><BR/>And, Sherry, I love that feeling of spring, summer!Emhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00041695477739391198noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-38711914955851785112009-03-05T09:53:00.000-08:002009-03-05T09:53:00.000-08:00Oh, how I love these responses. Thank you. (and ...Oh, how I love these responses. Thank you. <BR/><BR/>(and I remember that apple tree!)Beth Kepharthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14236487532413398431noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-59325804320882820862009-03-05T04:15:00.000-08:002009-03-05T04:15:00.000-08:00We travel back, seeking years so long past. Seeki...We travel back, seeking years so long past. Seeking memories of years, days, moments. Homes once lived in now occupied by others. "What does my bedroom look like?" The colors have changed but the shape is the same. Memories can take us to places that fill our hearts with such joy. Then again....well.<BR/><BR/>I recall our home in Wheaton, MD.<BR/>WINTER: There was "the" hill in our backyard that looked so long and dangerous and through the eyes of a young girl, it must have seemed like a mountain!! The hill was just a hill and we spent hours sledding. Down....fast,fast!"Watch out for the creek!" we would shriek at the top of our voices, then laugh! Up the "mountain" we would climb and down again we would go! <BR/><BR/>SPRING/SUMMER Then there was the "boulder" of a rock we called Susie. Visiting my old home many, many years later, Susie (the rock) was not large at all, but my sisters and I played and played and played on this rock that sat in the creek behind our house. <BR/><BR/>At Nana and Grandfather's, the apple tree will always hold a special place in my trunk of memories.<BR/><BR/>Each season holds memories.<BR/>We go back....we seek, we learn.<BR/>We come back, hopefully a bit smarter and wise.libhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04514848391253900543noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-24467928803264678612009-03-04T21:19:00.000-08:002009-03-04T21:19:00.000-08:00Beth, what a beautiful post! Though I haven't been...Beth, what a beautiful post! Though I haven't been back to my childhood home in more than 15 years, whenever I can place myself in a dream it's always there. <BR/><BR/>I sent you an e-mail on MySpace -- not sure if you check that or not -- but I couldn't find your real e-mail address.Jillian Cantorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02743542300208625589noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-11348796502721089402009-03-04T20:02:00.000-08:002009-03-04T20:02:00.000-08:00Every spring I get "homesick" for that first warm...Every spring I get "homesick" for that first warm Saturday, after the long winter, when we'd try to do everything - ride bike (in the mud; pick May flowers; hunt for newborn kittens; catch minnows in the creek; and picnic on the sun-warmed big rocks, in the pasture, while watching the clouds float by. My mom would tell us we didn't have to "do it all" in one day, that there would be more warm days coming. But we couldn't take the risk. Ahh...childhood.Sherryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11034488498196936495noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-15711197900699800502009-03-04T14:19:00.000-08:002009-03-04T14:19:00.000-08:00Don't I love this.Don't I love this.Maya Ganesanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15981552119449526456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-8295264370862747982009-03-04T13:24:00.000-08:002009-03-04T13:24:00.000-08:00It sounds like you have been an observer from the ...It sounds like you have been an observer from the very beginning. As someone who grew up in one house, Mom still lives there, I find it intersting to hear about how moving houses during childhood felt to other people. One girlfriend had a dad in the diplomatic core and lived all over the world ~ interesting stories!woman who roarshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07212236932174235637noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-60531230421074739642009-03-04T05:17:00.000-08:002009-03-04T05:17:00.000-08:00Beth, this is so beautiful. And yes, it brings to ...Beth, this is so beautiful. And yes, it brings to mind my own childhood, which I feel, in some ways, I relive for six long weeks every summer when I take my son home to the place where I grew up. It touches me there, when I'm back in the canyons and on the beaches, driving long winding roads through the hills. The girl I used to be creeps into my soul and takes up residence, leaving me again somewhere in the sky on the 3000 mile flight back to present day at summer's end.kristen spinahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12099514779097752438noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-33987830667880676032009-03-04T04:58:00.000-08:002009-03-04T04:58:00.000-08:00yes, i remember growing up. the house. the moods....yes, i remember growing up. the house. the moods. i am 45 and i still dream about itAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15047696858755347818noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3017619759232312084.post-1390589975281581352009-03-04T03:40:00.000-08:002009-03-04T03:40:00.000-08:00My childhood stays as snapshots in my head, as cle...My childhood stays as snapshots in my head, as clear as any I could find in a photo album. Looking at them now, I can usually see how the present day 'me' emerged from them...Does this make me odd? Probably!Jinksyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01686101468214361004noreply@blogger.com