I have been told that I was allowed to do more in her house than any of her grandchildren (please note that the grandchildren were boys -- 6 of them). No child was ever allowed to go in the living room.... until me. There in the living room was the tea set that I thought was once a queen's. The writing desk had old letters from her brother in WWII and photographs that I loved to read and imagine who the people were. On one table was a little music box that G.G. eventually gave to me. I loved to twist the crank and listen to the song over and over. The song is "Always" by Irving Berlin. My great-grandfather whom I never met bought it for her. It was their song and he would sing it to her. The piano was there in the far corner. I loved to "play" on that piano. I would make up all kinds of songs which I'm sure drove my parents crazy, but my great grandmother loved it. G.G. would play for me and I would sit on the bench and listen to her. The last time I heard her play the piano was at my13th birthday when she sang and played hymns at the piano in our house.
There is something about that house that I can't explain. Not too long ago I was in a store and I picked up a candle to smell it. The familiarity of the smell smacked me in the face and the emotions came pouring in (no I didn't cry). So, I stood in the check out line smelling this candle trying to figure out what was so familiar about it. I finally realized it just as I was about to check out. It smelled just like G.G.'s house. It smelled like the library, the pillows, the rooms I would hide in and explore for hours. I loved that smell. It made me realize just how much I missed her and that wonderful house.
G.G.'s 80th birthday |
Today would have been her 96th birthday, but I know she is happy where she is :)