Imagine a Window from your Past

By: Mary Wever

July 10, 2012

My window is in my Grandma and Grandpa Weston’s house in downtown DeWitt.  It is in a big white house that is dark inside.  Brown paneled walls are around the perimeter of the white aluminum casing.  The window is always clean because little sticky, opaque handprints are washed away daily.  

The window is not often opened.  In fact, it is covered with clear plastic in the winter to keep us all warm inside.  I often think about my grandparents and how they lived through the Great Depression.  Conserving heat is second nature to that generation.  So is conserving food.  That’s probably why my grandma always had some sort of “salad”, she would call it, in her refrigerator.  Her “salads” were only ever eaten by her and my grandpa because they consisted of any leftover vegetable, cheese, egg, and sometimes even meat that could not be wasted.  My generation would never know what it is like to scrimp and save like theirs.  We would never be forced to eat a “salad”.

I see a large oak tree out the front window.  The canopy of deep green leaves spill over the house like a laundry basket of freshly dried clothes.  The massive, looming branches look like arms begging for kids like me to climb up to make our imaginary homes in the elbow of their loving embrace.

During the summer, the sounds of birds and crickets, lawn mowers and the passing wind seep in through the thin openings around the big window.  Children’s giggles and squeals fill the air as they bask in the warm air and cool breeze.  The winter holds many different sounds.  The house is cold inside.  The window is covered with a thin layer of clear plastic.  No one is home.  The window is hibernating during the cold months, waiting for her family to return.  Cold to the touch, unable and unwilling to open.

The window’s nostrils are conflicted.  On the outside is a world of fresh clean air blowing around the smells of nature and bbq.  Deep breaths are taken to enjoy the aroma.  The inside smells of humidity, moth balls, and whatever is for supper.  Though these smells are separated by thin glass, they are equally enjoyed.

Tasting

If you could go back to change anything about the window

Why it’s important/significance in your life