Home Again

Well, I am back.

Great trip. I am a very sentimental person, and for some reason I am emotionally attached to various places.

My family has a cabin on a lake in Idaho. We went there first for a few days, just me and the kids since Charming can't take time off in the summer. Loved it. The kids spent so much time in the water playing with the sand and the neighbor's dog. Even with the sunscreen, their skin got some healthy color and their hair got all bleached out. So wonderful and relaxing. And not too hot.

Then we stayed at my mom's house. Not the house I grew up in or anything, but there is just something about mom's house that just makes it home.

But the best part of the trip was Grandma's house. Grandma lives on a farm-- not an animal farm, but a farm out in the middle of nowhere with gorgeous wheat fields surrounding it for as far as the eye can see. She lives in a circa 1900 or 1910 white farm house complete with wrap around porch. The thing I love the most about grandma's house is simply the feeling I have when I am there.

Growing up, my parents were divorced and we never lived in one place for too long. Grandma and Grandpa's house was one of the only constants in my life. We spent many vacations there, waking up in the morning to egg pancakes (some might say crepes) and games of rummy with Grandma and Grandpa. In the summers we would pick peaches and help Grandma can them. In the fall (or late summer) we sometimes went out with Grandpa in the combine or the wheat truck for the harvest. In the winter we would go sledding on old fashioned sleds down the big hill, and we could always expect to hear Santa's sleigh bells (that Grandpa shook) on Christmas Eve. Grandma and Grandma's house was a safe place. It was a constant.

When Grandpa died, Grandma did some furniture rearranging to get her through the grieving. It almost pained me to see the family room turned into a dining room, and Grandpa's tv chair, where he was so often snoring the night away, missing. It was like something sacred had been desecrated. I know I wasn't the only grandchild to be upset over it, but I can see why Gram did what she did. But the spirit of their home was still there, and I eventually was able to move past it.

We had a great time, me and the kids. We set up their kiddie pool and they played with my aunt and her and Grandma's dogs. It just felt so good to be there, that I did not want to leave. I wanted to spend another week, so I could sleep upstairs in the bed I had often shared with my sister in a room filled with toys, dust and old books. I felt at peace there. I can't explain it, I think her house is probably my favorite place. I hadn't been to her house for nearly two years, and I am so glad I was able to go visit Grandma at the farm for even just a few hours.

Wonderful.

Totally worth the trip.

Tell me about your special places. What are your "Grandma Houses"?