I did not have a basement in my
home as a kid, but I do have fond memories of dancing around my grandparents’
basement during our annual family road trips to Nebraska. Many of my favorite
television shows also featured loving families playing in basements. So when I
moved to the East Coast where basements are rather standard, I assumed my
family would make happy memories below ground too.
Instead of a basement however,
our house came with a crawl space located behind the laundry room, accessible only
by moving the washing machine. A crawl space was a foreign concept to me. Though
our real estate agent pointed out the strange area during our tour, I hesitated
to explore it even after the house became ours.
For months after we moved into
the house I feared this crawl space, especially when I was home alone with our
young children. Just the sound of it…crawl space…gave me anxiety. I had visions
of evil, little creatures climbing out of the darkness after we went to bed,
eager to steal our breath or blood. Every horror film scenario played out in my
mind with each creak and groan the house made on those nights.
One day the fear became
intolerable, so I grabbed a flashlight and went to our laundry room ready to battle
the demons inhabiting our house. However, when I shined a light upon the crawl space
I discovered that it was simply a large vacant area under the main level of our
home. The floor was immaculate, clearly maintained by the previous homeowner.
Sometimes the fear becomes
crippling in my life. At those times I try to recall the crawl space and
remember to shine a light on the situation. Nothing ever seems quite as bad in
the light.
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