My great-grandmother’s family has over 100 acres of land and I had not visited it in years. In my mind, it was still this beautiful big field filled with apple trees, strawberry vines, pecan and plum trees. I remember spending hours playing with and feeding the horses. I remember my great- grandmother teaching her grand kids how to make brooms from straw, gather water from the well, and hang clothes on the line. I also remember her putting frogs in our arms and scaring us.
When it was time to eat, she would make the best biscuits in the wood burning stove. Afterwards, she sat us down and taught us to make quits. Even though she didn’t have much, she made sure we were never cold or hungry.
I drove up to the hill hoping to see the house I slept in as a kid. The yard I use to sweep with straw brooms. The apple, plum, and pecan trees. In my heart, I wanted to see my great-grandmother, standing in the yard, waving as I pulled up.
The reality is, there is no more house, the yard is over grown, and all the fruit and nut trees are gone. Piles of old weathered wood is all that’s left of the house. Rotting limbs are the only remains of the trees I used to climb. An overgrown yard replaces the green grass, where I used to run and play with my cousins. There is no more grandma’s house, only the memories of what once was.
As I stood there downing in memories, I heard a sound in the woods. I saw movement and a little bit of my childhood came back. Just like when I was a kid, there stood the horses. I spent time getting to know my new friends, petting them, and feeding them. I felt like a kid again. I felt like I was home.
Check out other great articles from Happily Curious