In the house, twenty years from now, I will have floral wallpaper in my kitchen and old stained glass lamps in every room. I want the hallways to be lined with photos from hundreds of years ago and I want every corner to smell like the salt air that is hovering over the sea outside. I will have collections. Collections of dolls, dresses, and those Precious Moments characters. I will have a very large room filled with many, many books. Most of which, I will have read.
In my house, twenty years from now, I will have postcards from every country I have been to, which will have been them all. They will be displayed on a wall in my living room, which will be constantly filled with people. Some who I have met in elementary school and some who I will not meet until twenty years from now. I will have a record player, buzzing in the corner as the people chatter. It will be playing an album that I will love dearly that will come out fifteen years from now. The people will put down their wine glasses and begin to dance and all will be well.
In my house, twenty years from now, I hope to have a little dog. I will name it after a film I like, like Lady Bird or Hannah Montana the Movie. The dog will have a bark I sometimes find annoying, but then I will remember that I’ve written of this dog twenty years before. The dog will jump on the kitchen table and eat the flowers in the vase and I will get angry. But in the end, I will take the little dog to the farmers market and we will get more flowers.
In my house, twenty years from now, I hope to have a legacy. A shelf lined with books I’ve written or a mantle with photos of people I have loved. A legacy is subjective, but mine will be great. I will be kind and I will be generous and I will give everything to my art. I will give away books to people who ask and I will always have the guest room ready. In my house, all will be welcome. “There is hot tea in the kitchen and music playing in the sun room. There are strawberries ready for picking in the garden and there is an old car ready to drive us anywhere.”
In my house, twenty years from now, I will forget about all my worries of the past. I am scared of everything, but it will all pass. I will read the old journals of anxieties and doubts and I will see, in the frames in my house, how everything has worked out.