THERE IS ECHO IN THIS HOUSE
Twenty Seven years ago, my wife and I decided to buy a house in the northern suburbs of Chicago. We like the area, the school system and most of all the serene surroundings of the place, in an all white community and an environment that we said to ourselves will be loved by our children.
We bought an old house from an Italian couple. It was so nice, the floor is made of oak, the entire building is made of bricks, and most of all the kitchen is huge and I love the cabinets -- since I am the one doing the gourmet cooking in the house.
There is even an attic, and a wine cellar. The former owner makes their own wine, as of a truly Italian from the old home, where they came from.
The location of the house is perfect, so we said. It was only a block away from the train station, right across from the Catholic church where we got married, and the next lot is the playground and the public park, not to mention the schools. We have come to love the house, at first sight.
My wife said:
THERE IS ECHO IN THIS HOUSE.
I told my wife, we will fill the house with children that will give the house joys and lots of noise of running children and their laughter. The four bedrooms will be filled with noise from our children that we plan to have.
The first baby came, during the peak of winter and we are so ecstatic about it. The room at the back, that overlook the apple trees and the garden patch we have designated it for our first born son. He was a lively little bundle of joy. We named him MELCHIZEDECK, the first teacher of King Solomon, the high priest of old. When my son was growing up, I explained to him why I gave him such a name. Told stories how this mighty teacher of Solomon became the courage and the brain of the King on all his undertakings as a ruler. My first born son was so engrossed about it.
It was time for him to go to school. He was then four years old, and he needs to see the beauty of early education. We sent him to a nearby nursery school. He was having fun and lots of stories to tell about what he learned in school and the many stories of his teacher.
Then its time for my son to attend the first grader in the local school district, which is only three blocks from our house. My first born son is now five years old. By the time he was six, another baby is on the way.
Born also on the peak of winter, we named him ANGELO FRANCIS. He was born on the feast day of St. Francis. The west room was given to him. And now the house is filled with the noise of two active boys, running back and forth, up and down the stairs, jumping up and down their bedrooms.
We did not tell them, that there won't be any sister or any brother forthcoming. My wife cannot bear kids anymore.
Then it was time for my eldest son to go to college. He has chosen a university that is five hours drive from home, on the south of Illinois, near the boundary of St. Louis in Missouri. He wans to study International Business and Trade.It was a lonely farewell, when we left my eldest son at this dorm. We have to take care of it first. My wife prepared the bed, I did the study corner and arrange the cabinets and check the light fixture. We have to say goodbye to my firstborn. He has grown up. His younger brother was asking him so many things, only the two of them can understand. It was the silent brother's talk.
During the time my eldest son is in college, I often visit his bedroom. Looking at all his posters, his baby pictures and all his momentos on his shelves and often times my wife will see me lying on the bed of my son, until I have fallen asleep.
Then -- it is time for my second son to graduate in high school and attend college. We have asked him not to go further, so that he could be closer to us. He attended the city college, but after two years, when he will take his major -- he then moved out closer to his chosen school and next year he will be studying in Paris at Le Cordon Bleu. He is studying culinary science.
The two boys are gone -- my eldest son is now finishing his masteral degree and they are both living together. I am so happy the two of them are very close to each other. They come for a visit, they call or we call them.
That is the life of parenthood in America. You cannot hold on to your children. They will go swiftly.
Now it is only my wife and myself and my dog Misty, a Bichon Friese.
THERE IS ECHO IN THIS HOUSE.....AND I THINK, IT WILL BE PERMANENT!