Gramps and Nanny's house and farm. You can barely see Grandmommy and Grandaddy's house in the distance.
The best times of my life, growing up, were spent in a small town in west Tennessee. My great grandparents farmed there and my grandparents owned (and still own) the town barber shop. A WWII airbase was the scene of my best childhood adventures and the address of my kin folk. Both great and grandparents lived on that airbase only about a quarter mile apart. No other houses were there and my Gramp's farm land stretched between the houses on one side of our wide, cracked, concrete playground. Twice a year we got to visit and spend time in our own little paradise, playing with beloved cousins and being spoiled rotten by our Nanny. It seems like, if I try hard enough, I could reach back in time and do it all again. So many precious memories are there. It seems impossible that today, three out of four of those grandparents have passed, and the two houses on that airbase are no longer the warm, lively, second homes where I felt so safe and loved. In my heart and in my memories it will always be the same: Nanny's drippy window unit, climbing the cherry tree, swinging in the yard, wandering back and forth between houses, riding bikes as fast and free as you like, dress ups, black eyed peas with ketchup, playing board games with grown-ups, getting our hair washed in the kitchen sink, tea parties with Grandmama's mini tea set, gazing at her look-but-don't-touch curio cabinet dollhouse, watching Pink Panther with Grandaddy, gold Dial soap, a special book Grandmama always read to me and my "best cousin" (we never got tired of it), Grandaddy's organ music concerts, the turtle foot stool, old photo albums, Nanny's candy tin, green panelling, fruit salad, happiness...the list is endless. What a blessing that I got to be there and enjoy life and be loved by those wonderful people- my grandparents.