To Grandma’s House I Go

When I was a kid, there was nothing more inviting, exciting and adventurous, then going to Grandma’s house. While inside those four walls, I always felt special. Grandma’s first words were, ” I am so glad you came to see me.” I always knew she meant it.

If she was watching her favorite TV show, she would turn it down. Her second sentence was always the same, ” are you hungry”? Of course I was, I was at Grandmas. She had those special foods that we could eat; even if we didn’t need them.

It was better when my Granddad was alive, but God took him home early. He would always make us laugh. He would make-up words that rhymed with our names, and start rattling off silly sayings. He might say when he saw me, ” how’s Terry Berry”? Oh, I would giggle and that would start the visit off the right way for him.

If it was winter, he would take us sledding on his old Ford 55, truck hood, which he pulled with his tractor. If it was summertime, we would follow him around, helping  him feed the pigs, chickens and cows.

He seemed to have a gift of gab. He could talk about anything. With my being a kid, his conversations always drew me in. For Grandma,  you didn’t say her name without some food item included.

There were always plenty of green, leafy plants growing in the over-sized living room. There was an antique trio set of ice-cream soda table and chairs. Us kids always took turns spinning round and round on those wrought-iron stools. They still survive today in one of the adult children’s homes.

My grandparents were farmers. Everything that could be learned from a farm, each of us had a chance to learn. It was a family setting, a family of love. I wish anything, that time could be turned back for one day, and I could relieve that love that was shared in that room.

What kind of memories do you want to share with me about your grandparents?