That is what my library looked like this afternoon when I walked past it. Of course, it's a library/toy/puzzle/playroom to be technical. The Glen Den is another playroom with baskets of toys and I'll never forget how after we bought this house and moved in and I bought an old rocking chair that's as comfortable as worn cotton nightgown Mr. Moon said to me, "You know, you've bought a grandmother house."
I was shocked.
"What? No! I'm not ready for grandchildren!"
I was only forty-nine, not quite fifty then. And I suppose I wasn't quite ready for grandchildren but before I knew it, grandchildren were ready for me. We've lived here almost seventeen years and now have five grands. Owen will be twelve this year.
It has been a grand grandmother house. And grandfather house. If I can predict one thing, it will be that my grandchildren will remember this house with great fondness with its kid-easy decor, the toys and books and places to hide and the wooden island in the kitchen where food appears as if by magic, their special cups in the cupboards, the hallway where puzzles can be done on the floor and dancing can be done. And of course the chickens who come around for treats and lay eggs to be found, an every day Easter miracle, the yard where over a century's worth of shards and bits of pottery and strange iron things can be found, the railroad track right behind the chicken coop where trains still thunder past, loud and muscular as they carry things from east to west, from west to east.
What of all of this will they remember? Will certain smells take them back to my kitchen where silly colorful things hang on the wall, where there is always something to eat, something going on? Will they remember cuddle puddles on Mer and Bop's bed with cousins and mamas? Will we ever get to have cuddle puddles again? Will they remember books read on the love couch, the laughing when family gets together? Will they remember baths in Mer's big tub?
Will Owen remember the Mr. Peep story?
I hope so.
I am not being morose here. I am simply thinking about the times that we've had with the children in this house. All of the bacon and pancake breakfasts, the purple cows, the snacks of sourdough bread with butter, playing the matching game, playing Battle and learning their numbers. The kisses good-night. The snuggles and sweetness, the smell of freshly washed toddlers, the diapers changed, the first steps taken, the first words spoken, the quiet, deep gratitude that my husband and I have shared, knowing that it was our love that brought these beautiful babies into our lives, never imagining at our beginning that what we felt for each other could lead to all of this which has made us love each other so much that we don't really have the vocabulary to express it.
I am just waxing nostalgic. I suppose that part of that is the knowledge that we may all be sitting on a pile of lighter wood that is just waiting for a lit match to find its gas-soaked center. I want us all to be able to live our lives. Our completely prosaic and ordinary lives with their struggles and sorrows, their joys and their trials, their tribulations and their celebrations.
I want everyone to be safe.
I want growth to be possible.
I want things to be better.
It's been a good day. I spent some of it on my knees in the garden, weeding greens in the sunshine, the bluest sky above me, the sweetest air around me. Peace in all regards.
what a beautiful post, Ms Moon. It brought tears to my eyes. Yes, your house and the love it holds, will live on in your grands. Maybe tidbits...different for each child.....but the memories will bring them great joy and know that you have made a great impact on each and every one. Your day sounds warm and good......mine was same, thankfully..... minus grands, of course!
ReplyDeleteSusan M
I suppose what I was really saying is - Will I live on in their hearts?
DeleteOh, I hope so.
Profound! I am so happy you are philosophical today, and we can read it.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Joanne. And you have reminded me of a thing my nursing school buddies and I used to say when someone made a comment that impressed us. We would ask, "Is that cosmic or just profound?" That's always stuck with me.
DeleteYes, they will each carry precious memories, and the impact of these cannot be underestimated. I think of my grands all the time and I am over sixty. Have a peaceful night.
ReplyDeleteI am glad, e. I think of my grandparents too.
DeleteA beautiful post, my friend, full of life's magic through the generations, love like this will save us all.
ReplyDeleteI don't think that anything but love can save us.
DeleteThis lovely post reminded me of a day last year or maybe two years ago when my daughter sent me picture she had spotted in an in-flight magazine that had in it a spot of the exact same carpet (swirly red not exactly pretty) pattern as the hall and stairs in her grandparent's house. She said, she cried and laughed for most of the flight, she was so happy to see it after all these years.
ReplyDeleteMy Lord! That was so moving. So beautiful. Wow. Thank you.
DeleteThe strains of a song came to mind while reading your post. A house is not a home...without someone there to love you so. Wonderful words, Mary Moon. What they will all remember is your collective love. The only thing that truly counts.
ReplyDeleteLove is the only thing that counts, isn't it? And kindness, which is a sort of love. All of the real things are.
Deleteof course they will remember. I finally did some work outside yesterday as this latest cold front eased up. I took a trellis I had taken down months ago and put it up in its new location and planted the (potted) bougainvillea at its base and pulled up more of the dead orange cosmos. today will be even better, warmer and not so windy. lots to do out there.
ReplyDeleteLots to do "out there" here, too. But I've just been piddling in my garden. I'll get to the other stuff eventually. Will the bougainvillea live through winters, do you think? They were such a glory in Roseland and of course in Mexico, too.
DeleteYou have a way of using all of the "right" words! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank YOU, Marcia. That was very kind.
DeleteOf course they'll remember.
ReplyDeleteI think they will.
DeleteYou know how kids are. They're sponges! Not only will Owen remember Mr. Peep but even the little ones will remember your house and all the hours they spent there. I remember my great-grandmother's house and I only visited there a handful of times, and all when I was younger than 8. I can even remember where the furniture was.
ReplyDeleteOwen was so little when I told him the Mr. Peep story every day. Just a tiny boy, really. But I think he remembers, even if he doesn't remember the details of it.
DeleteIt's funny- I can remember my paternal grandfather's house, although not well, and I am sure I only visited it a few times and that was before I was six. So...
One of the reasons I stay in my home is so I have room for visiting children and grandchildren. Of course, COVID has prevented most of that but I am ready and waiting for when we can do that again!
ReplyDeleteYes. Don't we always want to have a nest ready in case our babies want to fly back for a little while?
DeleteI think your grandchildren will remember every smell, sound, touch and sight of that house for as long as they live. We don't all have that (I didn't) and it will be something they will treasure!
ReplyDeleteMy grandparents were not what I would call affectionate but I think of them so often and their little cottage still seems magical in my memory, as simple and spare as it was.
DeleteI’m sure they will remember much of it. As an army brat I didn’t get to spend much time with my grandmother but there’s so many things, big and small that I remember. Most of all I think they will remember the love. That’s what I will always remember.
ReplyDeleteXoxo
Barbara
The love. Yes. And each and every thing in this house that I keep here for them holds a desire for my grandchildren to feel loved. As if they always belong here where they are loved.
DeleteHow Mer and Boppy's house made them feel will be ensconced in their memories. A safe place to land, a happy , secure, loving place that will see them through the challenges that life generally poses. Foundation is everything, details are decoration , which may or may not be remembered clearly but the FEELS will shore them up for the rest of their lives. You have given them the best gift possible.
ReplyDeleteI hope so, Linda Sue. I want that more than anything.
DeleteI am 53 years old and was very close to my maternal grandmother - I remember almost everything about being at her house - the smells, the bookshelf in the entry, coloring on her porch, her cooking at the stove..... and when she died, the only thing I really wanted from her house was her sauce spoon. They'll remember all of it. Lucky, lucky kids
ReplyDeleteI've gotten teared up, reading all of these comments and yours has caused them to finally spill over. How wonderful to have those memories, that sweetness. Thank you for sharing that.
DeletePerhaps something in your sub-conscious told you to pick the Lloyd house - half knowing that it would become a happy place for grandchildren and a hub for your own children and their spouses or partners. You chose well.
ReplyDelete