Grandma Polly's House, 2012

This is the ritual.  We take a group picture right before we load up in the car and drive away.  J and Grandma Polly stand and wave as we head back home.  Before we get half a block, I start sobbing because I miss her.  I miss her love, her food, her house, her humor, and most of all, I miss the consistency that she has always been.  Going to her house is like going home.  Growing up through the trials that I saw in my childhood, she was always my stability.  I would call her and explain my troubles and she would listen, she would pray for me, and she would tell me that she was going to come down and get those people {who hurt me} with her 2x4.  And that made it all better.

This time I didn't cry when I pulled away.  I didn't even have tears to swallow.  Something has changed about going there.  I've transitioned and let all the sadness out of how much I'm going to miss her to a joy and comfort of being in her house and in her presence.  

A road trip with John, the kids, and Joseph is a fun way to go.  Reading, DVD's for the kids, fighting over who was driving next, and just a bunch of laughter kept us entertained for the 8 hours there and back.  My spirits were definitely high as we arrived.  

This was Fern's first time to meet Grandma Polly.  G'ma Polly had the same things to say about her as everyone else does: "she's so feminine and delicate and loves watching her brother."  It took her all of an hour to become comfortable with her surroundings.  Fern was so sweet as she quietly and carefully crawled around the house playing with simple things.  

I loved the break that I had from being in my house and my to do list.  I felt so free to play with the kids and not worry if I should be productive instead.  All I had was time and space to play.  While they slept, I got to go to a late movie with my brother and uncle, then got a outing of coffee and climbing gym.  

John has done well making himself comfortable in someone else's grandmother's house, but then again he knows how much she means to me and feels that as well.  He enjoyed the freedom of devoting big chunks of time to his book, and he also took advantage of the we-don't-have-anything-to-accomplish feeling to play with the kids.  

These kids of ours did so well this weekend, and I couldn't stop telling them how proud I was to be there mama.  We didn't take any toys for them.  Instead, we explored the yard, the attic, the bell collection, and played on the piano several times.  

If this was a kid county show, then they would have received blue ribbons.  The were mostly well behaved, they slept wonderfully, they played with abounding imaginations, they talked and talked and talked (both of them), and were just about the cutest things for my grandmother.  That's the effect she has on us.  The lack of schedule, the slow pace, and the calm spirit creates a perfect environment for us to relax and to simply be.  

I was worried that a toddler and an infant would be exhausting for my grandmother, but my mom talked to her and the report was good.  She loved watching them.  She thought they were the cutest little things and said she could watch them all day.  It's one thing to have a friend love on my children, but for my G'ma Polly to take such delight in them was something special.

We had fun laughing and smiling at them.  We had fun laughing at each other.  We had fun.  This was one of the best trips up there in a while.  It wasn't sad.  We didn't sit and talk for long stretches of time like we usually do.  We just enjoyed the kids and each other and it was simply perfect.

I left thinking how much I thoroughly enjoyed the trip.  And now, at the end of this blog post, as I process those few days, I'm starting to feel some tears build up.  It's hard to have a magical time together, then it's over.  Now, I'm longing for another few days to sneak away to that place that feels like home.  Until the next time, I'll remember the great time we had going home this Labor Day weekend.