I spent the day (my dad’s 80th birthday) with a few members of my family. I went with my younger brother, my parents, my daughter, and youngest son to the place where my parents were raised.
We all piled into my brother’s van and drove for two hours to visit my uncle who we only see a few times a year. He is my dad’s youngest and only living brother. It was a nice, albeit, short visit.
After we left we were hungry and looking forward to eating at Mama Lou’s. It’s a small BBQ place, in this tiny town called Uno. It’s very tasty, which is why there were no empty tables. We proceeded to Hardyville, another small town with another tasty little diner. Before we left, however, I snapped a picture of a little store that was right down the two lane highway from my grandparent’s farm. I have very fond memories of this little, wood floor store.
It was a day filled with laughter. It usually is when I’m with my family, however, it also held a hint of sadness for me. We stopped by the old farmhouse that belonged to my grandparents. It has been empty for about eight years, since my grandfather’s death. It’s a shell that housed a lot of good memories. Although I could never imagine the time that I would no longer be able to visit that farm, I must admit, it brings greater sadness these days than the joy it once brought. It’s simply not the same.
I made a decision tonight. In the not too distant future…I’m thinking Spring, I want to take a day or two, or however many is needed, and take my parents to the many places they visited and lived during their growing-up years, and listen, really listen to the many stories they have to tell. I know I’ve heard some of them before, but I want to hear them again. I want to sit in the places they were and hear their stories.
Now I need to inform my mother, which I think I just did…cause she reads my blog.