It looks different.
Whenever I drive by it, my eyes would LOVE NOTHING MORE than to see it the way it was ..or still is in my mind's eye.
We were stationed in Ft. Bragg, NC when I was a kid and when we came back to visit ...MAGIC.
Driving down the road, headed west towards them, finally less than a mile away (when we were always states away.) I couldn't wait to see the blue house -- it was so close to theirs. The next thing I would see after the blue house was their windmill, the white rock drive, their house, them.
This is their house today. I pulled over and took a picture of it.
The roof used to be darker, a sharp, pretty red. The shudders were black. That red thing there on the right was a window. The steps to that front door were never used.. we always came in the side door. My grandparents were HUGE fans of yard work.
It was a crisp, clean, pretty house, with a windmill -- that my Grandpa made-- in the front yard surrounded by flowers.
Lots of Thanksgiving memories in this house. They had a big dining room table ..but there was a little kitchen table that saw tons of action! My parents played Euchure way into the night at this table while my brother and I watched and eventually dozed off in the living room.. (But it's how we learned to play.)
Obviously I don't go back to that house for Thanksgiving dinners.. I don't play in the basement, or the cow pasture next door... or the chicken lot in the back, or the really cool garage, or the hill my grandpa made.. .they had alot to do there.. that just scratches the surface .. The FUN 7 cousins could have when we got together there!
(This blog post was actually supposed to be about taking the memories with you.. moving on, building a new house.)
Truth is I would love NOTHING more than to march up to that side door, knock like crazy, and ask them "WHAT WOULD YOU TAKE FOR THIS PLACE ...BECAUSE I WANT IT BACK!!" (And I may do that one day...)
Life moves, life moves us.. God moves us. Sometimes we would like to say "slow down".. let the kids stay little. Don't let grandparents get old.
Atleast we keep our memories. (As I say that I am VERY much aware that I'm forgetting to do something for work tomorrow.. and I'm not sure if some of these baby pics of E and G are labeled correctly.. )
I suppose what this blog post has turned into is this:
If you can march up to the door and buy your grandparents old house to restore it .. DO IT! :) If you can't.. don't fret.. remember all the fun you had there? (Assuming there was fun being had there..) Write it down.. don't forget it! Tell your kids about it!!
I taught E and G a really quick song that my Grandma used to sing .. just before I tucked them in tonight.
