My Hometown (Part 2)

I have been inspired by Miranda Lambert's song, "The House That Built Me." Every time I hear it I cannot help but think of all the things she mentions in the song, such as where her favorite dog is buried, hand prints, the brokenness she feels, where she did her homework in the "little back bedroom." I think most people would love to walk around and relish in all the great times lived in a place you called home for such a big part of life. If you are fortunate enough to still have your parents living in the house you were raised in, you are blessed. You never really have to say goodbye.

For me, I think of my grandmothers house. We have our dogs buried under a beautiful tree in the back yard. I think of swimming in her pool, making potions under the deck with my cousin, hearing my grandmother call our room the "front bedroom." Every holiday, birthday, and Sunday after church was spent in this house. The walls could tell a story of our family heritage. It was covered in pictures of grandchildren as babies and growing up, my dad in the military, wedding pictures, summer baseball, soccer, girl scouts, and the list could go on and on. Something I could always count on getting there is a bear hug that my great grandmother always asked for. This home was full of family, love, cartoons, ego waffles, homemade banana pudding, and peanut brittle. I had some of the best times of my life as a child in that house.

I lost my grandmother when I was only 10, so the time I had with her was not enough but I will never forget the love in that house.

I find myself driving by maybe once every couple of years when I am in the area. The little yellow house with a big yard and swimming pool is supplying another family with beautiful memories these days. I can only hope it means to them what it meant to my family. However, the memories built there still remain: yellow roses growing in the yard, flower beds, and a split rail fence. This was a family project after my grandmother died. We wanted to keep alive what she planted. Not only in the yard but in us as well. I guess you could say that our memories are still growing there.