Tales have been spun and songs have been written about the same house for hundreds of years. It’s not a famous house from a celebrity standpoint and while most people have been this house, it’s different for each of us. I’m talking about Grandma’s house.
Whether it’s over the river and through the woods or across the country, Grandma’s house is a place that everyone likes to go to. Well, maybe not all the time. There’s an ebb and flow to our feelings about Grandma’s house.
As a kid, it was a magical place with cabinets full of treats and a freezer that was apparently stocked year round with ice cream. Food tends to be a central theme when it comes to Grandma’s house. I remember my grandma would make me whatever I wanted for dinner, and she would always have a special treat that involved some kind of mixture of confectionery delights.
But then comes those junior high and teenage years, when going to Grandma’s house might feel like a chore. It could possibly involve spending time with family (insert teenage angst ridden eye roll here) and means that you’re not going to the mall or other exotic locales.
Eventually, those feelings fade and you realize just how special Grandma’s house truly is again. It’s a place full of love. It’s where getting spoiled rotten is a way of life. It’s where you look at those photos on the wall or on top of that coffee table that seem to cover the course of the better part of a century.
My kids love Grandma’s house. It has special toys and snacks that they don’t get a home. There are juice boxes and candies that are rare in other parts of the planet they have seen but seem to be plentiful in this small corner of the galaxy. On top of that my boys have the rare opportunity to also go to great-grandma’s house, the same place I visited at their age.
So what makes Grandma’s house so special? It’s simple. That’s where Grandma lives.
If you have a special memory of Grandma’s house, we’d love to hear it. Share it with us in the comments.
Header image courtesy of simplycutecreations on Etsy.com
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I’ve been renovating a house that my grandmother built in 1937. Now my son and daughter-in-law live there. It’s been a labor of love and along the way I started to think about the houses that my grandparents lived in while I was growing up. They will always have a special place in my heart. Not because of the brick and stone that they are made of. But because no matter how old I get, in my mind, in these houses, I will always be a child in my grandmother’s house.
http://kathyfelter.blogspot.com/2012/11/pardon-me-while-i-reminisce.html
Thanks for the comment Kathy and sharing that sentiment. I’m sure you’re not alone in the way you feel about that home.
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Grandma’s house was a home away from home. A place where it was peaceful and safe. Sitting at the kitchen table eating, talking and laughing was the highlight. She made every meal taste better than I ever had. I would stay late on Sundays to be there when Grandpa brings home a donut for me from the bakery. She would play the ukulele and sing, or read a Bible story during the day. Everything smelled better and taste better at Grandma’s house. How I miss it.