There is no place like home... but there is almost no place like
Gran and Grandad's.
I have spent countless hours playing in this yard. Being read to by Gran-- and Grandad. Everything from the Bernstein Bears to whole books of the Bible at a time, to car magazines and money papers.
From the time where I couldn't step this far and had to jump, to being able to jump totally skipping one, to taking small steps to step on every one... I have be here. I have made memories in every place you can imagine around this house. In every room. There stories go on and on... :) Especially when Gran tells them at night and Christina says, "Just one more story Gran... THEN what happened?" (If you're wondering our very favorites are about G&G's dating time, early marriage, and Daddy!! :))
Do you know how many meals I've eaten here? How many songs I've heard Grandad sing from the bathroom? How hard it was to get that shower door opened or closed when I was a kid? How I would giggle to myself to see Gran making faces at people on the phone for our benefit?
How I've knitted, colored, hemmed, studied... how I've just sat and listened to the sound of traffic flying by on 55. To the cows. To Jesse. To the judge shows on TV. To the crime shows that scared me when I was little but I couldn't walk away from. Or if I did... I could still hear in the next room-- and no way was I going downstairs by myself!
To the driving back to G&G's at night after Thanksgiving or being at Granny's. To see this light shinning for us across the field, through the trees. To know Gran was sitting in her chair reading, sewing, or writing (or sleeping)... to know that when we got there, she'd put down whatever she was doing and ask if we wanted something to eat, if we'd had fun. To hear whatever we wanted to tell her.
I am a runner. Maybe not super long distances kinda runner. But a "I want to get where I'm going faster, so I'm gonna run" kinda runner. As a little kid, this was always true. I would run down those steps, turn and back up. If you're super cool, you don't even use the deck, you just go from one step to the next. And let me tell you, when Gran calls you, you should always come-- #1 because she's Gran and you should always obey her. But... #2. Because it's normally for something awesome! 'Cause she's one of the coolest people in the whole wide world!
Did you have days of sewing with your Gran? Of shopping-- learning the amount that you pay on something isn't what maters. It matters if it's good and helpful. And you can clean just about anything up to look good again. Don't be afraid to bargain. Or to walk away. And to be giving. And that an ice cream or Diet Coke is NEVER very far away.
There's a lot of walking in TN. In the early mornings with Gran and Grandad. Walking between them-- having to run to keep up with them when you're little. 'Cause you can come, but you have to keep up. Knowing that there would always be something neat to see. And that Grandad would make you laugh at something Gran would say and what his response would be. He's super smart-- and very funny. When you make him laugh, you know you've said something funny.
They've taught us so much. They've expected so much out of us. I couldn't thank them enough for the way they expected us to act, for helping us know so much about money and being wise with it. For going on trips with us and sharing in so many "little things" about our lives. Gran has written me a letter every single year for my birthday and many in between. She wrote letters in block capitals so that I could read it. The first time she sent me a letter in cursive, I felt so cool-- because she thought I was old enough to read it that way... and because I was!! :)
The field. The motorcycle rides. The field Grandad taught us to drive in-- and a stick at that! Riding a horse. Loving Hardee's. Reading a pattern. Washing the dishes is super hot water. Making tea. Catching the microwave before it yells. The smell of bacon. Perfect chocolate pies. There's too much to tell about!!
Gran and Grandad are hard workers. They are the "hard to
keep up with" kinda workers. The kind that make God happy. They help so many people-- both in this country and in others. No job is too menial. They are not looking for thanks. Just to do what is needed.
Their example is priceless in my life.
While I was home on this trip, I felt like a little girl again. Everything was just as it should be. It was perfect. Every time I go back I retrace my steps through my play-places as a kiddo. I normally do this alone. This time, I did it with a camera because I want to remember everything. This is the grave of my kitty. I couldn't have a kitty in GA, but this was MY kitty in TN. Blackie. I loved him. <3
I don't know why I was given such a perfect childhood. It was the kind where you grow up good, you grow up slow~ like American Honey (Lady A). It's the kind that leaves you thanking God every day for all HE gave to you, and wanting to give it back to others.
I love my Gran and Grandad's.
Because I love them.
They love me.
And we love HIM!
<3
