My House Is Just A House

My grade 12 students are writing essays and believe it or not this is their first real exposure to essay writing.  To help them out I've been trying to find examples of good essay writing.  This is no easy task.  I decided to go through my own essay's to find some examples for them.  As I was reading through my stack of essays I came across a reflection that I had written for an English class.  I don't know why but I feel compelled to share it.  Perhaps, it is because I am missing home, but nonetheless, here it is.

The Power of the Photograph:  Imprinting Reality

     My photograph is of my house.  I have lived in this house for twenty-three years.  I have laughed in this house.  I have cried.  I have screamed out in anger and suffered various degrees of exasperation.  I have survived the many stages of youth and I have fumbled my way through to adulthood.  This house has been my sanctuary through it all.

     This house has undoubtedly contributed to my experience of and my recollection of emotion.  I have left and returned to this house numerous times.  Each time I come back, I walk through its rooms and I can feel the emotions connected with my memories.  Sitting in a familiar chair or glancing at a specific object in a certain way at the perfect time can conjure up emotions that were thought to be long forgotten.

     I have heard of instances where people have experienced extreme emotion and this emotion becomes imprinted on the specific surroundings.  With this in mind, my house becomes a semi-accurate representation of my identity as my feelings become imprinted on the walls around me.  If the walls could talk they would tell you about my adolescence;  puberty and hormones and the fear and excitement of leaving home for the first time.

     The reality is; however, the walls cannot talk.  The memories and emotions lie within me.  The photograph, my house, merely triggers the long forgotten moments and the feelings associated with my childhood.  Does the photograph constitute a simulated identity?  A photograph cannot constitute my identity, it can only characterize what I want it to represent.  My house is just a house.

My house may be just a house but that doesn't change how much I miss it and the people, memories, and emotions in it. I'll be home in one week and the one thing I'm looking forward to the most is .... walking into my house and rejoicing in the comfort of memories and love.