In the Article House of Memory Lisa writes about the belief that a house can hold onto memories. She writes about the home she owned with her husband. The memories of being pregnant and raising their daughter in that home. She also writes about when her husband became ill and then of losing him. She speaks of the certain rooms in the house as if it were that memory it has held onto. I like when she uses an exploded moment when talking about the upstairs bathroom. She talks about avoiding that bathroom at all costs. This claw foot tub “we took gorgeous baths here together”. She moves on to tell us about bathing her daughter in that very tub. This is the place after her husband after a week of chemo walk in with fuzzy patches of hair on his head and walked out bald. The place where she gave her husband his final bath. I can feel her pain as she speaks about these memories of this room. As she switches to the next paragraph I like how she writes to lighten the last statement “Ok. Let’s close that door and pause on the landing. This leaves you wondering what is next in her tour of memories in this house. I agree with her on memories living in homes even after we leave them. I still remember the house I moved to when I was 7 and lived in until I was about 17. That house has so many memories within those walls. As Lisa states “Pick a spot, any spot in this house and I will give you a sampling of its invisible landmarks, rooms in time that open their doors when I least expect them to.” Whether it be her unlocking the door and the click of the key in the lock setting off the memory of where he would be standing or what he would be doing when she arrived home. I can connect with what she is saying as I could tell you about the memories for any spot within that house. I like how she shares with the reader memories from her life and how she lost her husband and dealing with life after him. When she speaks of purchasing a new bed she almost sounds as if she feels guilty for doing so. She states that it is smaller as she now sleeps alone aside from the company of her daughter. I like how she shared with us the decision she made and tied the correlation to the first paragraph. She starts the last paragraph “this column is my last letter to you from the road”. In the first paragraph, she writes about being a kid and moving with her parents and watching the house out the back window disappear into the distance. I truly enjoyed this article