A Special Place

There is something really special about Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Lots of little tiny memories hidden in the house. I wonder what my girl’s will be: the doll house in the guest bedroom? The quilts hanging on the walls? Grandma’s nativities? The kitchen table? The big beautiful trees? Marcus the cat? The stones around the garden that are adored with every grandchild’s name? The big comfy recliner couches?

This is one of my favorite things, this tree in the front yard.

Whatever they are I want to help them write about them, save pictures of them, so the memories don’t fade away. My memories are starting to get very fuzzy and it makes me sad. Memories of going to visit Grandma and Grandpa’s houses always make me feel so good inside. And most of them are little tiny things. I’ll try to write down some before my memories are almost all the way gone:

Grandparents in Seattle

Grandpa’s workshop; the smell of it, the cookie jar, soda hidden in the shelves, and the toys he would make for us. Grandma’s garden; how it was nice and cool and beautiful, like a little hidden oasis. How she could name every single thing and tell us how to grow it the right way. The Cherry Tree. The softball hanging from the car port so Grandma wouldn’t run too far into things. Green shag carpet. Grandma’s cabinet with all her tea cups and china. Coffee tables with Mary Engelbreit books everywhere. The den downstairs; full of Grandpa’s airplanes, a basket of nuts to break and eat, and cowboys movies galore to watch with Grandpa. Grandma’s bed for hanging out with her after surgeries and watching all the old movies–the best one being 7 Brides for 7 Brothers. The record player downstairs that we would play Splish Splash I Was Taking a Bath on over and over. The beautiful yellow guest bedroom with family heirlooms and pictures hanging all over the walls.

Grandparents in Utah

Walls lined with plates, the type of plates you buy at all the souvenir shops around the world. The deck for eating and having fun. The hill behind the house that was full of cactuses that I rolled down one day. Aloe plants to help with sunburns and cold sores.  The next door neighbor being the church building and finding it so odd that a church could really be that close. We lived back east and it took us awhile to get to church. Grandma remembering that my favorite thing was a chocolate chocolate chip muffin from Costco and she would buy them and save one for me before all the cousins attacked them. Grandpa’s office downstairs and how he would sit and talk to me about education.

But most of all? The things that felt the best? There is really something special about driving up to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, getting out of that flippin car that you have somehow survived driving forever in, AND GETTING A BIG HUG FROM THEM. 

The worst part? Sobbing as you drive away because you really didn't

want to leave your Grandma and Grandpa.

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