Cleaning out the attic is the task I dreaded most Pulling out the memories of some not so friendly ghost Kept them packed away for so many years, but now I forced to face the truth, I'm not sure that I know how
Pulling down the ladder to climb into the dark Rummaging through things that have surely left their mark Blowing off the dust that sat silent through the years Choking back the memories that brought so many tears
Finding my old dolly that is thread bare in one spot Remembering how I clutched her when I hurt a lot Touching the old rocker where Mama held me tight Hearing the angry voices from some cold dark night
Wrapping myself in the quilt that Grandma made for me Bringing back the memory of the love that set me free Seeing the old frame of the bed where Daddy laid Picturing the family as we knelt around it and prayed
Opening my eyes to see it's all faded with the time That everything that haunts me is only in my mind Climbing down from the ladder to leave it packed away To deal with all the memories on another day
[This message has been edited by Deb Lynne (edited 03-11-2000).]
Oh, Deb, this is special. We all have those attics and those memories stored there and I'm sure we all get those chills and weak knees whenever we get the courage to go through them. You described it beautifully.
Where blue skies meet blue oce