It was the perfect weekend get away. Beautiful house on a dead end street with a huge lot, minutes from the lake. This house full of wonderful memories was owned by my Nana and Papa.
Weekends with my small family of four was fun, but my fondest memories were the weekends 13 of us crammed into a 2 bedroom/1 bathroom house. Back then we didn’t need any sort of technology to entertain us, family was enough. Our family that shared hundreds of laughs there, meals, and birthdays.
The backyard was surrounded by woods filled with trails to navigate and explore. The backyard where exploring adventure doubled in excitement as you raced down those trails gripping tightly to the back of your cool aunt or uncle as they drove their dirt bike to the water tower.
Papa’s chair was one of our favorite spots in the sun room. Papa’s chair, where we would purposely sit knowing he would pretend to be angry and tell us in his grumpy voice to move. We would get up giggling , but not before we pulled on the chain to the antique bell that hung above his chair.
The tire swing located in the backyard. The tire swing where all the cousins would fight to be the first on. When pushed hard enough, you would fee like you were going to fly. Fly right off in the nearby woods, but we still screamed, “Harder! Higher!”
Our last weekend there with our first dog Sasha. Our last weekend where we all knew Sasha was sick and wouldn’t be with us much longer after that, but I’d like to think we showered her with enough love that weekend to last her for eternity.
The lake nearby. The lake nearby where we feed the ducks, despite the fact that we weren’t allowed. The beach where we swam and built sandcastles. We laughed, we shopped, we just enjoyed being with each other.
That house no longer belongs to my Nana and Papa. It belongs to some stranger, who I hope is enjoying as many memories as we did. The backyard is no longer surrounded by forests, but more houses for more tourists. The tire swing no longer hangs in the tree on the edge of the back yard. And my Papa no longer sits in his chair by his antique bell, but that chair has been empty for a while now.
Learning Through Living 
What a beautiful piece…I loved the significance of your grandfather’s chair…how it was an important part of him and your family together. What wonderful memories you have to cherish!
The fun of being “…crammed together in a 2 bedroom/1 bathroom house.” I have many memories of all the fun my cousins and I had together as children and somehow, many of them involve being crimes in a house or car. Your words paint such a clear picture of your memories of togetherness, family, and fun. Beautifully written.
Crammed on house or car, that is.
This post reminded me of Cynthia Rylant’s When the Relative Came. It also reminded me of my grandmother’s front porch–one of my most favorite places. Thank you for sharing your beautiful tribute to family and memories.