Thursday, March 3, 2011
My Grandparent's house
I didn't think it would be so hard knowing my grandparent's house would be sold. I am really good at pushing things away and not thinking about them and therefore not feeling anything about them. But as I looked at the listing of my grandparent's and the pictures that were posted I was overwhelmed with sadness. Sadness that I will never again go back there and visit them. Sadness that I will never again make new memories in that house. Sadness that my children will never visit their great grandparents and make their own memories.
Travis and I had talked about taking a trip back to Massachusetts this spring to visit my grandfather and letting our kids experience what I had when I was a child. It seemed like a whole different world back there. It was so quiet and peaceful back there. There was a freshness in the air that smelled so sweet. No one rushed around to do anything, except to get to church on time. There is a playground 3 houses down from my grandparent's house where I spent the summer swinging on the swings and dreaming of the future. My brothers and I would play basketball and then run off into the forest behind the playground while our imaginations ran wild. I met a boy and had a summer fling that quickly fizzled when I left paradise. We watched our younger cousins grow up each year we visited and saw ourselves growing too as the thought of a wiffle ball game seemed too tiring and we gladly chose instead a game of cribbage or dominoes with our grandfather.
I look at the pictures and still see my grandparents sitting in their recliners watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune (shows they never missed), my grandfather falling asleep in his chair and my grandmother knitting. The back screen stands strong now after years of it never sliding right since I ran right through it one year with excitement to hug my grandparents. The back loft has a railing now which never did as we grew up. We would love to go up there and look through "treasures" to see what we could find to play with.
The yellow room was always the one I stayed in. Since I was the only girl my brothers had to sleep in the stifling hot attic as I got my own room. The computer used to be in the same room as me and so I could always stay up late chatting with friends back home. I was always homesick for them but knew I wouldn't be able to come back to Massachusetts for a visit for awhile and needed to enjoy my time.
The other room with the hardwood floors was always for my mother and father when he came. And in the final upstairs room lived a man who drank his life away. He lived in such a depression that no one could reach him until last year when his body could not handle the strain of all the years of smoking and drinking. He was my uncle and I was his princess. The alcohol changed him and he wasn't very nice when he drank, but I loved him... I love him.
So now, with all of the rooms empty, the house needs a new family to make new memories. It is hard to say goodbye but life goes on even when family members are gone and houses get sold. So I will hang my grandparent's cockoo clock in my house and remember the good times and I will go on making memories with my family so when I am gone they will have good memories to carry them on.