There's no place more magical in all of childhood than a grandparents' house. This Thanksgiving trip to Kentucky meant saying goodbye to mine. But I also got to see my kids in the midst of the magic at their own grandparents' house. Very bittersweet. The kids always get to walk back and feed and pet the horses that our neighbors keep on the back of my parents' property, but this time their daughter was home for Thanksgiving and brought one out for the girls to play with. Pretty hard to compete with Grandma's & Granddaddy's house, even without the free pony!
Running to pick up apples from the trees to feed the horses:
Grandma bought Tate his own little green chair and he carried it all over the house with him. This is where he plopped himself down and insisted on eating while Grandma was cooking dinner -
Literally right at her feet. Can't bear to miss anything:
The big highlight of any trip to Kentucky is Granddaddytown! All nine of Granddaddy's grands in tow this time - Gabe, Bella, Wesley, Anna Kate, Abby, Carigan, Tate, Caleb & Jax.
Wednesday, November 25
First they watch a movie and stuff themselves with pizza. Then comes the part where Granddaddy spends an obscene amount of money on games and rides that would be an automatic "
No" every time with Mommy or Daddy. Thank goodness for Granddaddies! -
BELOW- Tate clamored for the bench on the carousel this time, but exclaimed like this each and every time we went around and Granddaddy came into view:
Rhodes grandkids get the VIP treatment at Granddaddytown!
This picture cracks me up - Sign of things to come!^ From Granddaddytown we drove to Richmond with the heavy-hearted task of going inside my Grandmother & Granddaddy's house one last time to say goodbye. I only had one full set of grandparents and my Granny lived in a very small neat and tidy house with no toys or things for kids. So Grandmother & Granddaddy's house was
the magical place of my childhood. My grandparents built this house when my dad was six years old. These walls hold generations of memories, more than I can count. It's fallen into a bit of disrepair over the past decade as Grandmother & Granddaddy grew too old to care for it. Granddaddy lived here until he was 93 years old, going to live with my aunt in Louisville for the last year of his life. Grandmother lived here alone until just a few months ago, when a spot opened up for her at a very lovely local assisted living facility. She'll be 92 next week. We never used the front door, but we would walk around from the back patio and swing on one of the two swings that used to hang on this front porch:
But the backyard is where the magic happened. The back yard where Granddaddy & Grandmother kept a full sized vegetable garden complete with tall ears of corn right there in the middle of the city next to EKU campus. Where we used to wade in the little cement fishing pond they filled in years ago. Where we used to hang on the clothesline and hunt for the graves of Dad's childhood pets. Where we used to climb the best climbing tree that ever was that once rose high above the screened in porch on the back of the house before it died and had to be cut down years ago. A little piece of my heart went down with that tree. I have pictures of myself and my siblings on these steps as babies...
There are even pictures of my Dad on these steps a a child. My kids playing in the leaves on the steep hill leading down to the road that Granddaddy always warned us to keep away from:
Caleb christened a new climbing tree down there. We spent several hours going through the house, soaking in the significance of each and every room and the memories that took place within those walls. We found treasures like my Granddaddy's elementary school graduation certificate, hung on the wall of his basement workshop, so covered in sawdust and cobwebs we had to find a cloth to wipe it to see what it was. Like boxes of letters and drawings and papers from our childhoods and from Dad's and from Uncle Buddy's. Like Granddaddy's ledgers full of hand-written meticulously kept financial records dating back to the year he and Grandmother got married in the 1940s. I can tell you how much my dad's doctor's appointments cost the year he was born, and how much his Christmas presents cost when he was two. Abby even found a box with a small brush and comb that we assumed was for a doll, since my Grandmother collected and restored antique dolls. My dad said she could have it.
It wasn't until we got home that night that I glanced at the writing on
the old worn box and saw in my Grandmother's handwriting, "
Byno's Rhodes' baby comb & brush. Comb & brush of your daddy's."
I about had a panic attack as I reached to rescue it from where it was
getting sloshed with water in the middle of the kitchen island where we
were cooking. Dad didn't even know it existed. Abby cried when we told
her she couldn't keep it after all, but I promised her we'd buy a
shadow box and put it together as a family in St. Augustine over spring
break. I can't believe I'm sitting here next to a nearly 100 year old
comb and brush that once smoothed my Granddaddy's baby hairs,
generations before I smoothed the hairs of my babies. So much history
found between these hallowed walls! I held it together pretty well throughout the afternoon, but had a good
cry walking through each room alone one last time. Standing with Erin
& Dad with the doggy graves at our feet:
Not that many years ago a giant garden would have blocked much of the view of the house (
in the summer months anyway), and our huge magical climbing tree would have completely covered the screened in porch. Hard to let go. Dad handed me the jingle bells from the basement door that always announced our arrival (
Dad never knocks... he always unlocked the door and we just came inside, running to surprise Grandmother & Granddaddy as they sat in their chairs, most likely watching Wheel of Fortune or figure skating). Tears visibly flowing at this point. Thankful for the magic of Granddaddy's house. Thankful my kids got to return to their own magical place that night. Reminding them they need to treasure every moment of it.
