Can't believe this park is still flooded in the hot August sun!

To Grandmother's House We Go!

Adminisk8or

08/13/2023

I always think August is going to be this miserable month, because you always associate it with hot, hot weather- at least where I come from. But I can honestly say, some of these days have been exceptionally beautiful, and not overbearingly hot.

One fun thing I did this last week was get to hang out with "the boys". We pulled Halo night... and having almost never played Halo in my life (I know, am I a freak or something?), I can assuredly say... well, in layman's terms, I got my butt whollup'd, haha. But it was fun to chill with the boys again, as it's been months since we got to chill like that.

Another cool thing was that my wife and I went on a somewhat impromptu overnighter trip. At the beginning of the week or so, I decided I wanted to go camping this weekend, and my wife ended up agreeing to go with me. We left town at like 8, and it took an hour to get out there. We were searching for an open site for probably 30-45 minutes. After having searched a good deal, the sun was nearly gone all the way down, and I was starting to feel discouraged that we wouldn't find a site. In a move of faith, we decided to set out down the highway a little further than I've previously gone searching for campground, and wouldn't you know it, not about a half or so mile later, we found a very nice, solitary campsite. We had just enough light left (plus some artificial light) to get the tent setup, chop wood and start a fire. The stars were mighty beautiful, and we caught some of the meteor shower going on, so that was neat! Mostly, it was just nice to spend time alone with my wife in the quiet and lone wilderness. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: there really is something therapeutic about sitting around a campfire.

One of the oddly more notable things that happened this week, though, came from a quick five-minute-or-less detour from my work day. I found myself going between clients on Wednesday, and with the route I had to take to get between them, in a twist of fate, it was a very short distance from somewhere I hadn't visited in years, now. I could go on to say that this somewhere is my grandparent's old house... but the fact is that there's no house left there... in fact, there's no soil, either. Nothing but thin air. Six years ago, well after my grandfather passed away, but while my grandmother was still alive and well, she was living in a house on a nearby short slope overlooking another city. One night, very unexpectedly, there was commotion- the hill that had long been standing firm and solid (albeit sandy, sloped and abundant with a small forest), suddenly gave way, and much of what had once been a nice, sloped hill, was now a very much steeper and much less voluminous hill. Family from all around (including me, when I got off work at the supermarket) went over to help her move out of there ASAP and as many precious things as we could manage.

It was a sad and tragic time- certainly most of all for my poor grandmother. But as odd as it might seem, I also felt a great deal of sadness and regret. This house, for as long as I could remember, was a place of many good memories.

There were memories of family gatherings;
Memories of delicious dinners;
Memories of playing games on the PlayStation 2, SNES and GameCube they owned;
Memories of playing games with my cousins;
Memories of exploring the hillside and feeling brave and adventurous for climbing a short part of the hill;
Memories of pulling weeds in my grandma's garden.
Memories of pruning trees and cleaning up leaves;
Memories of mowing the lawn and trimming the edges;
Memories of disassembling an old wooden deck that had disintegrated and weathered badly;
Memories of climbing on the roof, cleaning gutters, and trimming back tree branches from there;
Memories of restoring a patch of her yard on the side lot that had been abandoned and overgrown;
Memories of fixing sprinklers, cleaning the shed and sweeping the patio;
Memories of hearing stories from my grandpa about things I could hardly even dream of, and grand, vivid adventures and experiences that felt almost more like something out of a storybook than real life;
Memories of going out to dinner, or my grandma ordering something to eat for lunch, even after paying me a ridiculous amount of money for the work I did; Memories of the few times we got to stay overnight at that place, and go to breakfast the next morning with Grandpa and his brothers;
Memories of watching trains pass, while overlooking from the hill above;
Memories of watching the sun set and rise from that back window;

These, and so much more. I've summarized what I'm only now realizing was a very memorable and quintessential part of my life, and interestingly enough, probably some of the most beautiful and fond memories I can think of from my childhood. Maybe it's just the late hour getting to me as I'm writing this down- but it almost brings me to tears remembering it all, now. I've said before that I typically don't look back on my past too much, as I like to think in the present- but sometimes I just can't help it. And it must be these feelings and memories deep down inside me that game me just the right push to go and visit this site, again. As I drove down the few streets to get there, I made the last right turn and looked down the road. Before me, at the end of this curve was nothing but a big, new fence and sky beyond it, weeds overgrowing the area directly in front. But I could see it in my mind's eye- it was still as clear as day. I could still see their house, overlooking the view to the west, and I could see the driveway approach, complete with the slightly crumbling wall directly to the right. I could see the front yard, with its grass and lilac tree, the size of a small bush, growing happily, complete with the rosebush garden next to the walkway to the front door. One thing I was shocked to actually truly see was the large tree of their front yard, still standing there- and though it now looked very dry and dead, I remember it when it was green and mighty. I could even see the backyard, and all those many parts of the yard I had put hard work into in my younger days.

Indeed, though the house was now fallen and smashed to pieces, and those pieces cleaned up and thrown away, the memory of that home and the good feelings in it were perhaps never so strong as they were then- and now. I apologize, because honestly, this seems like nothing more than a grown man ranting on about a house he misses- but seeing this image that I did really solidified what I think to be good truth: nothing good- truly good is ever lost. I was told, while my grandma was still in her last earthly days here a couple of years ago, that she would occasionally see grandpa in dreams; and in at least one of these, he brought her to this beautiful place, with a beauty that's hard to truly describe in words; and there, showed her that he had been working on rebuilding their house. It was the same house, but it was strong, sturdy and more beautiful than ever before. All I can say is that I hope one day I can visit them, again- along with all my family and cousins.

Maybe that's one lesson I could say I've learned at the end of this day- for many things in life, it is not very productive or wise to try and go back to "the way things used to be". But in terms of family, while everyone may change and discover themselves in new ways, one thing remains constant- they are family. I love my family- immediate, and extended alike, whether they are my favorite cousin or my lesser-known second-cousin. I hope that despite whatever difficult family-related circumstances you may be going through, that one day you can look back, and realize that, even if your aunt, your nephew, your grandpa or even your own dad is a numbskull and a fool, that gosh darnit, they're family- and you can only hope one day they'll figure things out.

Sorry, this one got me real nostalgic and emotional- I'll stop while I'm ahead. Until next time, see ya!