Onion soup
My parents lived in that house for almost half a decade. I lived in it through early adulthood. And though I've been away an eternity, and both of us have since changed in so many ways, every visit triggers vivid recollections of our time together. I sit here, peeling in my mind layers upon layers of paint on the walls, each layer laden with its unique stories and history. It's as if I'm peeling the layers of an onion, as my eyes often wet, tears of melancholy alternating with tears of joy. Today's thoughts went back to the beginning, to a newly laid layer of paint, the very one that welcomed my little family with a solemn promise an ancient time ago. I could still hear it ringing in my ears: "In the warmth of this home, you will love, laugh, and grow. In the safety of its walls, you will dream, plant and sow." The layer held on for a few years, delivering its beautiful promise. Betrayed by an ugly war, uncertainty and fear dimmed its soft glow, and as months passed, quickly followed by years, its once blemish-free surface turned into a patchwork. There were marks of shells that got dangerously close, traces of water leaks and peeled paint, smudges left by the fumes of candles and kerosene lamps, the occasional scribbles of a child, outcries of a teenager... Then the war ended, and with peace came a new clean layer, loaded with hope and expectations for a future that looked promising again. The little ones had grown, milestones had been achieved, despite it all.
Fast forward a few years and lives had normalized, forging a path for creativity, trendiness and the simple joys of life. In came the colors and the textures. There was a warm lilac accent wall in one room, and a beige venetian plaster in another. Life was good.
Fast forward to today. The paint on the walls tells the story of two trekkers far along in their journey, at peace with themselves, at peace with each other and with the rest of the world, yet saddened by the winds of separation that snatched their children away from them. They eagerly await a message, a call, or, God's gift of dearly beloved faces, the chirpy sounds of rambunctious grandchildren.As I sit here and reflect, I know that fresh paint will cover the old one again one day, and the cycle of life will continue, totally undaunted. Suddenly, it's as if I'd peeled a whole bag of onions... #aphotoaday #nostalgia #home#visionsofhome #yesteryears#simplepleasures #simplertimes#stories #storytelling #cycleoflife#motivationalquotes#inspirationalquotes #quoteoftheday#writersofinstagram #goodreads#goodvibes #thesoundofmyheart#livelovebeirut #livelovelebanon#the961 #lebanoninapicture#mylebanon #insta_lebanon #bestofleb#houston #htx #myfieldofflowers#myhappyplace
