The House That Bulit Me
I have heard this song time and time again. When it first came out I remember really liking it. I hear it on the radio so often now, I don’t even really think about it anymore. I don’t really listen to the words. Even while singing along, I’m just going through the motions. I know the words so well it’s easy to speak them out loud while letting them lose their meaning in my head.
Today this was not the case. I guess I was just in one of those moods. The words spoke to me in a way they haven’t in a long time. I spent a lot of time reflecting on my life and my childhood while listening. I found myself once again relating to the lyrics, and letting them take me back to a time forgotten.
Reflecting on the words, I found many similarities to my own life, even though there isn’t really one house I think of as “the house that built me.” I have many memories in many houses, but all of them at one time or another, were called “home.” I don’t miss them any less because there are many.
My thought process continued to take me through memories, and I found myself thinking about all of the many things that “built me.” People and places, things I did, and things I missed out on. It made me kind of sad to sit and reminisce about the many things of the past I can never have back.
