Thursday, January 27, 2011

Down memory lane

My daughter, Rachel, posted the following video some time back; I don't listen to modern country music, so it was new to me.  Surprisingly, I liked it.  It sounds folksy, and you know how I love folk music.   





Rachel can identify with the song because she grew up in the same house, from the time she started first grade until she graduated.  It's the house we vacated three years ago, the house in which Cliff's sister resides now.  We could move back into it if we wanted; after all, it's our house.      
My parents never lived in one spot long enough for me to really feel that strongly about any house we lived in, but there are a couple of houses I do feel that way about.  


One was Grandma Stevens' house; that's it, behind my cousin Betty, me, and my cousin Royce.  


Here's a shot taken from the road on one of those Sundays or holidays when we all gathered there.  You can even see the smokehouse.  


The quality of this picture isn't great, but on the left side of the picture is Grandma's pump, next to the smokehouse.  
I regret there are so few pictures taken inside Grandma's house.  I've always wished I had a picture of her sitting in her rocking chair, crocheting.  I'd love to have a picture of her sitting upstairs at her quilting frame.  She spent a lot of time in those two locations.  There's no reason why I couldn't have pictures inside Grandma's house:  I received a Brownie camera for my fifteenth birthday, and the flash attachment worked great.  I just never stopped to think that one day she wouldn't be around, and all I'd have left of her house would be the memories.   
I can still close my eyes and walk around her house, in my mind.  I know where the refrigerator stands, and the cookie jar and the table.  I know which corner the stove was, and the breadbox.  I know exactly where she kept the Hi-Ho crackers.  I can almost see her sitting on a tall stool at the cupboard, making noodles or assembling pies. 
Grandma didn't rearrange her furniture, or buy new stuff.  She had the same kitchen table until the day she died.  When you're a kid it's a comfort to know there's someplace you can go that will be the same as last time you saw it.  Especially when your parents change residences every three or four years, sometimes oftener.  
About a half-mile up the road from Grandma was Uncle Leo's farm; for many years it stayed the same too, but eventually they added plumbing, with running water in the kitchen, and a bathroom.  They also enclosed the front porch and made it part of the living room.  Still, it had the feel of "going back home" when we visited there, changed or not.  
I've decided it's a part of getting old, this business of reminiscing about old times and old places, the feeling that we've lost something along the way.  I accept it, but I don't have to like it.

6 comments:

Margaret said...

I'm nostalgic too--about when my kids were little and we all lived in the same house, went on vacations together, etc...Time really does go by too fast!!

Rachel said...

I sure know what you mean! If only we could go back again! I do like this song and she does well with it.

I wish we had pictures of the old days, but no one in our family apparently had a camera. We have very few photos. I never saw a photo of one of my grandpa's and no one had a picture of him that we could ever locate. The other grandpa there was one poor quality photo. I only ever knew one of my grandmothers. The others died before I was born. We have very few photos of us as kids, and none of the houses. Very sad. I sure do have the memories though!

Great post that took me back in time! Loved your photos!!

I'm mostly known as 'MA' said...

I really have a hard time believing how fast the time flies. Just yesterday I was a young mom and wife...now I'm a grandmother and a widow. The years are so precious and we hardly give them a thought.

Nancy said...

I wish I had more pictures of my grandma's house too. As my husband and I have been rehabbing rental houses we always discuss counterspace and I always remember that my grandma had NO counterspace in her kitchen. The kitchen table was the only place she had to work at to roll out piecrusts, etc. The sink was a big cast iron thing that just hung on the wall and there was a little back-less old chair beside it with a big old enamel pan to set the wet dishes in after you rinsed them. The hot water heater and the washing machine (never had a dryer) also stood right out in the open in her kitchen. These rental houses would look like a palace to her.

Lindie said...

I can close my eyes and remember the last 2 houses my Nana Fallis lived in and the one and only house Grandma Eaton lived in. I didn't see them there except once a year in the summer when we visited for a week or two.

Vicki said...

Such sweet memories, the best things in life really are free. Vicki