This is not our most exciting stop or the most interesting
blog entry. (But it might be the
longest entry.) We are in Willard, MO at my
grandparents’ farm. I have been coming
to this red, split-level farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere for the past 39
years. This place holds so many
wonderful memories for me: milking cows,
butchering cows (I was fascinated), feeding baby cows with a bottle the size of
a tea pitcher, playing in the creek, running through the pasture,
exploring the barn – oh the sounds and smells of a barn . . . sweet smelling
hay and the sharp odor of gasoline; the popping and crackling of the metal
siding and roof as they heat and cool in the sun. It’s a happy place.
The inside of the house is just as wonderful. It was the coolest house I had ever seen as a
kid. It seemed so big with 3
levels! It has a rock fireplace that
opens to two rooms, and a screened in porch (where we almost always eat – we
did tonight!) complete with a porch swing.
Or sometimes we eat at the bar (which was also very fun to a kid who
didn’t have one). Then there’s the
basement. Granny had her sewing room
down there with a giant sewing table where she made drapes. There was a dressmaker’s dummy in her exact
size and shape (she made all her clothes) and huge rolls of drapery fabric
everywhere. There is even a second
kitchen down there.
On top of all that, there are the people in this small town
that I have grown up knowing and hearing about: neighbors and church
family. Their church’s youth group sort
of adopted me whenever we were here. As
much of a city girl as I am, I think this is a great small-town, country-place
to be. Very “Mayberry.”
And my girls have had a taste of all of that. They get just as excited as I did as a child when we top the hill and the red house comes into view. They have their hands on the car door handle
all the way down the gravel driveway and jump out the second we stop. They kiss their 85 year-old
great-grandparents and visit for a few moments before they are out the door to
play in the soft grass and cool breeze.
They will have some of the same sweet memories that I have!
But this time Grandpap wasn’t here to kiss. We stopped at the hospital to kiss him on the
way into town. He is sick, possibly with
a tick-borne disease. They have sent the
tests off. My Grandpap who gave us a
ride on the tractor last year when we were here. My Grandpap who is raising tomatoes, green
beans and watermelon as he has for the past 40 or more years. My Grandpap who has been caring for my Granny
day and night for the past year after her heart surgery that didn’t quite get
her health back the way they thought it would.
Maybe he will get past this and go right on the way he always has.
There are people here – sweet ladies – who are staying at the
house around the clock to help Grandpap care for Granny. Tonight, since he is not here, I am staying
in the house to help. (Brad and the
girls are outside in the camper). I have helped lift her and feed
her and bathe her and put her to bed.
It’s a different place than it used to be, and yet still the same. I hold on to the happy, sweet
memories that I will always cherish.
Time keeps marching on. I want to
soak it all up. I want to freeze time for
the next 6 months so that I will always have it in my heart. Our trip.
Our time with our girls, with family.
Sweet memories. I am so glad we
are starting here in Willard, MO.
Happy travels!
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