When the Past Changes in the Future

When I was in elementary school (and some middle school), my entire summer vacations were spent at my grandparents' home. They lived a few hours from us on an 80 acre farm. The house was the nicest one in the majority of the township....2 story, 4 bedrooms, huge picture window in the front...2 bathrooms. For its 1970 build, it was pretty extravagant. I would be there the weekend school got out until 2 weeks before school started.

I would spend a lot of time following my grandpa around. He was a carpenter by day and farmer by night and weekends. In fact, he built the house and all outbuildings (with the exception of the old barn). I rode the haywagon when they were baling hay. I went shopping with my grandma many days, too. Sometimes we'd go to the House of Flavors (ice cream parlor) for lunch (that was a true favorite) or we'd go to a local (state) chain which focused on mostly homemade food. When I was in 4th grade, she took me to a REAL jewelry store to get my ears pierced. Of course, that was before places like Claire's, etc existed. Every Sunday, we'd take a drive somewhere. It didn't matter where. Sometimes we'd drive a half hour or so to a neighboring small town. No matter where we went, my grandpa always made sure we stopped at the local ice cream joint (usually a soft serve place like Dairy Queen, but this was before Dairy Queen, I believe). I had amazing grandparents. I was super-spoiled, but at the same time, I was expected to help with dishes, vacuum, beds, and even mow. I wasn't worked to death..I just needed to help. Whenever my grandpa went to put gas in the car at night (so we'd have it the next day), I'd go and I'd come home with a few things of candy.

My grandfather died in 1990 when I was 18. My grandmother and my uncle (unmarried and farmed) stayed in the house. It went into some disrepair because my uncle wasn't handy and my grandma (probably) didn't want to spend the money. I don't really don't know the reasoning. It wasn't an eyesore and everything was still neat as a pin on the grounds. It was still the nicest one in the Township (it is kind of a redneck, backwoods area).

My grandmother died in 2011. My mother had control of the estate and she sold the house and land. This is a whole other story from hell, but it was sold to someone who lives a few miles from them and also farms. I haven't been back by it since 2012 when all the closing of the house went through, but thanks to Google Maps, I was able to go street-level and see the view I always saw from the road and even coming down the road to it. It was just over a hill....and it stood out like a sore thumb. The anticipation of of going to my grandma's was always immense.

To this day, the street-level view is the same. It says it is from 2009. I am so thankful for that (ten years later) because the satellite view isn't as pleasant. It just looks like it is really run down (not surprising with the type of person that bought it). I would be absolutely devastated to see it in shambles in person and from street level. My heart aches enough as it is seeing it from the satellite view. It looks like much of the barbed-wire/electric fencing has been taken down. The dirt road that went to the back has changed its path. It's so hard to see something that was always a constant (and a great one, at that) change...it's like erasing everything of my past and I REALLY don't like that. Yes, I always have that experience in my head and I will hold on fiercely to it, but seeing it changed...left to go into more disrepair....it's like spitting on a grave.

I miss my grandparents...still....and fiercely. I don't know if I will ever be brave enough to handle seeing that 80 acres for what it is today be it in person or via Google.

I am watching a PBS Christmas fundraiser thing hosted by Marion Ross and Gavin MacLeod (from Love Boat). As they conversed, I heard one ask, "What was your favorite Christmas gift as a child?". That sent me thinking about Christmases when I was a child. I don't know if I have a favorite gift, per se, but I have one of my most favorite moments.

At my grandmother's house on Christmas, we never did gifts until the evening...I have no idea why, but it was just the way it was. This would all take place after the big formal dinner which was late afternoon-ish. Then, after dinner, you get the damn Christmas desert and coffee and lots of chatter at the table. It was a killer for me. The pure agony of having to wait longer was unbearable. One Christmas, my grandfather and left the table and went into the formal living room. It was a room with a large Curtis Mathis TV and beautiful live Christmas Tree. One dared NOT to eat or drink in that room or even walk in it with shoes on. Anyway, my grandfather sat in a LaZboy chair and put the foot rest up and laid it back. One thing I wanted more than ANYTHING when I was a kid was a record player. Of course, in the 70s, that was the thing (unless you had an 8 track player) and even into the 80s before cassettes were big. I was dying I was so anxious, but still in the formal dining room was chatter. My grandpa's eyes were closed, but I knew he wasn't sleeping. I got really close to him and whispered to him. "Grandpa". He answered with a "what?". I said, "Grandpa....what's in the packages?" He laughed and wouldn't tell me. I said, "Grandpa!!! Did I get a record player??". It was like he couldn't contain his excitement, either. He shook his head, smiled really big, and said, "Yes!". Sure enough, when the chatter stopped in the dining room and everyone gathered into the living room, I did, indeed, get my record player. Along with it, was a Disco Mickey record!


I don't think I will ever forget that moment with my grandfather <3

Your Past May Not Be What You Thought It Was

My heart is so heavy right now. It's no secret that I used to spend my entire summer vacations as a kid at my grandparents'. They lived on 80 acres of pure farmland. I was spoiled to a degree, for sure, but I was always expected to "stay in line". That meant that I was to help with dishes, mowing, making beds, etc. It's what EVERY kid my age did back then. We didn't know entitlement. We knew DISCIPLINE. As much as you wouldn't think it would be a good time, it sure was, for the most part. I was so soooo blessed to have been able to do that. My grandfather died when I was 18 in 1990. It was the first real close death I experienced and since then, I've had a number of deaths I've had to deal with. Probably one of the most impactful death I had to experience was 8 years ago. That was my grandmother. She was 89. When she was in ICU (this is another long story from hell), I never left her side unless I had to eat or get sleep. I held her hand (she was non-responsive) and I talked to her and recited so many memories I had. My grandma got my ears pierced when I was maybe 4th grade. We always went to this one bakery (it was the best) for bread. We would frequent the Ben Franklin Dime Store and go to lunch after. One summer, my grandma gave me the money from her garage sale so I could buy my very first 10 speed bike. That was a HUGE deal as a kid back in the 80s.



I rode tractors with my grandfather, rode on hay wagons when it was time to bale hay...and perhaps my favorite was to walk the woods at the end of the 80 acres to check fences (cattle used to go into the woods). Every Sunday, my grandma, grandpa, and I would take a drive somewhere. It could be 10 miles down the road or 45 minutes down the rode...we always went somewhere. Usually, that "somewhere" had an ice cream joint like Dairy Queen. Of COURSE, my grandpa insisted on stopping. He was always great like that! Summer nights were filled with the sounds of Detroit Tigers baseball games on TV with the TV turned out towards the screened in porch. I'd hear the baseball game and the bug zapper simultaneously. It really didn't get any better than that.

It was no wonder that I had this overwhelming need to make sure I got everything out of that house when my grandma died. I had to have the cuckcoo clock that always ticked 24 hours a day (It was my great-great aunt's). I had to have ALL the old pictures. I took her Mix Master, the Blue Ridge dishes, her jewelry, the afghan that her neighbor made before I was born (but always used it as a kid). I had to have the stupid knick knacks she had, her wedding pictures, the penny kettle on top of the refrigerator, the old lock box (which turned out to be a gold mine of original civil war papers of my great-great grandfather). If it reminded me of my childhood, I took it. In hindsight, I wish I would've taken more. I hold hard and fast to the things I love the most.

Then tonight. My parents went out of town to a bed and breakfast for Thanksgiving. They've done this for the past few years despite my protests. It hurts to see them leave. But tonight. Tonight, my husband told me he talked with my mother early Thursday morning. My husband told me she told my mother we invited my uncle over for dinner (he has late-onset schizophrenia and is highly odd, but doing much better since he has started working a job). Apparently, my mother was happy we were doing that. But then...my mother told him WHY she leaves. Supposedly, she didn't have a great childhood. Apparently, my grandmother could be very mean and I "have no idea what went on". This was extremely overwhelming to hear. I wanted to bawl my eyes out. I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to even react. My grandmother was mean? I don't know that I've seen my grandmother exactly "mean" when I lived there all summer. My grandma would sometimes tease me about my weight in a "joking" way. She would even say to me (and in a more negative tone), "You look just like your dad". That one probably impacted me the most. My biological dad was a drunken dead-beat. I knew him since I was maybe 10, but he was mostly in and out of my life. Being told I look just like him sent me the message that it wasn't a good thing so I truly felt shitty. Still, it wasn't enough for me to hate my grandma...it wasn't enough for me to not be at her side in ICU (my mother wasn't...but I think that was mostly because she couldn't emotionally handle it). It wasn't enough for me to leave her own cherished possessions inside a house being sold. It wasn't enough for me to not love her. ...and I did....and I did hard.

I am not sure how to handle this. I am so sad and I am scared that knowing may tarnish the way I feel about my grandparents. It would change EVERYTHING that I loved dearly. I'd have to take them off my lock screen and background. Maybe I wouldn't feel like I would have to if I actually knew what all of this meant. But what if id DID mean that?? I'm sad. I am soooo sad over this. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it IS something. Maybe.