A Little Stroll Down Memory Lane

***Warning, Warning. For family members, tissues may be necessary.***

My mom and her siblings cleaned out my Granny's house this weekend. My Granny has broken both of her hips and has extremely brittle bones, so she is not going to return to home. This is not news. We have talked about this and knew this was coming. That said, when my mom told me about the clean-out, I became overwhelmingly sad. I was flooded with wonderful memories from that home. Times that I will never be able to communicate accurately, but to those of us who shared them, they are etched into our hearts. I think one of the reasons why this saddened me so much (I would have been sad no matter what) is that the last time I was there at the house, I didn't realize it was my last time at the house.

So here are just a few things that come to mind about my Granny and Papaw's home. They had a screen door on the door everyone used to come into the house. It had a certain creak or something to it. If you went during the week, you were likely to find my Granny standing in the kitchen getting lunch - or dinner as she calls it - ready with Papaw sitting in his recliner. The television was sure to be on - and very loud. As a child I loved sleeping there with the attic fan blowing, but we did struggle with who was going to sleep on the little bed. We played colored eggs on the front of the house. Some of us played in the ditch when it was full of water. We walked to the park or to the school to play. And a couple of us sat in the middle of the road once much to the shock and disbelief of our parents.

Of course, the thing that comes to mind the most about Papaw and Granny's is food. When I was little we ate Sunday lunch there every week. We would have chicken and mashed potatoes (that were always amazing), plus some kind of bean that was grown in their garden. Granny made things like egg custard, monkey bread, fried pies, and the like. You never left there hungry. I didn't have a good picture of the kitchen table but it is probably the truest picture of our family. Eating, fellowshiping, laughing, and sharing over a wonderful meal!

This picture if of Easter ca. 1985. Someone might correct that but cousin Dustin looks to be about 2 to me. I don't know why I am holding my dress up, I am sure I had a reason at the time. My great-grandmother is on the far right. She lived there, too. Three amigos. Me, Donna, and Brooke at Christmas 1985.

One thing you could count on for the holidays - PICTURES. If you don't believe, check my photo albums. I was looking through to find pictures to include here and there are a ton of family pics. Almost always on the couch. This would be Granny and Papaw and the grandkids, 1996.

The homeowners themselves.

I picked this picture from Easter 1998 because you see the garden area. It was Papaw's joy to work in that garden. Obviously it was still early so there wasn't much going at this point, but I assure you that place would be covered up with stuff in a few weeks.

Cousin Dustin (Easter fell on his birthday this year) with his car. I picked this one so that you can see the front of the house a little.

Where lots of wonderful things happened - Granny's kitchen. I wonder how many meals were prepared there. It is a number I am sure I cannot fathom or even get close to in my own home. And you can see on the counter - Pies!

Cousin Brittany - who is now 22 and getting married. I picked this one because you can plainly see the wall of fame. Granny always kept all of our pictures up for everyone to see. Even in the nursing home now, she still has photos everywhere.

We always had fun there. This is Brittany, Sheri and Dustin. If all else fails, a dog pile is always in order.

My Papaw. For those of us who were lucky enough to know him, this picture just about says it all. The only thing missing is a baby laying on him. He and Granny made this house a home. We all can cherish our memories of him and cherish our Granny.

And I am going to hope that I can provide a home like this for my family - full of love, laughter, and the making of mountains of memories.