On my normal daily grind, driving into the office, I often spot an old abandoned house sitting far off the road. It took months for me to even notice it. But one day, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed it and that’s when my imagination took over.
Sometimes when the traffic slows, I have time to take in this long-forgotten, haunted abode. I often wonder what it must have looked like in its heyday when it was filled with living souls. I imagine Christmas Day 1947 when giggling little girls played with their new Kewpie dolls and little boys marveled at their shiny red Radio Flyer wagons. Fresh off the lot Studebakers and Packards line the driveway as visitors bring freshly baked sweet potato pies and baskets filled with apples, oranges, walnuts and dates.
Over the years, those kids grow up and move away and those young parents become grandparents and eventually pass on into eternity. And that old house still stands embracing the memories of smiling days and midnight tears that life brings every family.
Imagining the better days of that old house makes me wonder what remnants will be left to tell my family’s stories when we are all long gone. I hope the bits and pieces of my own life will be reflected in the lives of my family and friends and that my spiritual journey will be the story that others remember about me.
Coco Michelle's Magazine 
IF YOU DON’T GET OUT OF MY HEAD!! What is with us kinfolks??EVERY-SINGLE-TIME I drive by an old abandoned house in the country the EXACT thoughts flow through my head!!You are truly scaring me!I remember a story our Grandmother told me about the “single-lonely-tree” in an wide open field too-she told me it was the tree that slave masters would plant for the slaves to rest during working the fields and also the one they were beaten on—it makes me sad whenever I see one. . .WOW–we are SO related and I’m so glad!!Love ya’
Yes we definitely are kinfolk!! Love you back!