When you were growing up did you have a place you went to that was a sort of haven? It didn't change much, it was a constant? I had a place like that. I didn't really realize how important it was to me until I got cancer. After I'd have a chemo treatment I would feel incredibly sick. I would feel desperate to make the sickness go away and all I could think about was getting to that place. It was my grandma's house. Yes it was my grandpa's too, but I thought of it as grandma's. I knew if I could just get there and have dinner that she made it would make my sickness go away. If I could lie on their couch as they sat and watched TV ~ a sort of feeling would wash over me that I had always taken forgranted...I don't even know if I can put the feeling into words but it is a feeling of knowing and being safe in the knowing. If I was able to get to grandma's and have dinner the funny thing was was that I did feel better right away! I might get sick again when I got home but when I was there I felt okay. When I was growing up my grandparents lived in the same house. Not much changed in it either. They kept the same tables and chairs for years, the same spinny chair in the living room, the same phone, the same coo coo clock that didn't work, the same pillows on the chairs. Sometimes grandma would sew new curtains or put up new wall paper but they appreciated the simple things and they were frugal and so they were content with what was good enough. When you pulled into the driveway you knew what was going to happen. It was always the same. You ran up the steps and you knocked on the door or rang the door bell several times. Then they both would come to the door and it would creak loudly when it opened. They had a little landing where you would crowd into and take off your shoes and coat and hang them in a closet or on the hand rail and up three steps you would go into the living room. They had the open concept thing going way before anyone else ever did. They had a small wood stove and lots of windows, there were lots of little creative homey touches that grandma had around. Grandpa would usually sit at his desk typing on his typewriter or talking loudly on the phone about something scientific unless he was going to help us fly kites or we were going to the park or to the beach. Grandma would always have cookies or raisin scones, cranberry juice or something that felt like a treat for us. We did all sorts of things at grandmas....like try to play ping pong in the basement or look at their large collection of national geographics. They had a lot of board games and a massive back yard with a good hill for rolling down. They had a quiet road for riding bikes or exploring and they lived in walking distance of a beach and a park with a river that had a bridge over it. Life there was not perfect but it was good. We (my siblings and I) made applesauce, sewed, baked, crafted and visited cousins. I write all this and will share pictures for a couple reasons. I want to remember how their home was always. It had a huge place in my heart. When they moved I had to go and say 'goodbye' to the house over and over again. I knew that losing that safe haven was going to be very hard for me. I also want to remind myself that creating something like this for my children would be so special for them. Such a blessing. If they had something that didn't change, it could be something small...like always having a certain type of snack in the same place (my grandma had her cookies in the same place on the counter in a cookie tin and we checked it every time we were there) all the time or a certain activity we did every week at some specific time...just something that never changed that they could rely on. Sure it wont measure up to getting to go to my grandparents and all the peace and stability their constantness gave to me...but I know it will be good. What a gift I was given. So many gifts through so many years of a lot of hard things...their gifts of a house filled with simple touches and a back yard that had a garden. The smiles on their faces when we came and the hearts they had for us. Oh I miss them! In these pictures they were starting to prepare to leave their home. My heart was breaking and I tried to take pictures of it all so I would never forget.
Thank you. This made me bawl. I miss them so much. That house was a place where I got to be innocent and nothing bad would happen to me. It was the home where I was loved and cherished. I wanted to buy it so badly.... But it wouldn't have been the same.
ReplyDeleteThank you - xo