Grandma"s House

 

Grandma’s House

 

Growing up grandma lived with us. Her room was a sanctuary for her eight grandchildren. A listening ear and a comforting hug were a tonic to our rough and tumble household. On social media I found something that brought back memories of grandma. I share it in part. The author unknown.

 

“Can I Sleep at Grandma’s Tonight”

 

Grandma’s house is where the hands of the clock take a vacation with us and the minutes unhurriedly go by.

 

Grandma’s house is where an innocent afternoon can last for an eternity of games and fantasies.

 

Grandma’s house is where the cupboards hide old clothes and mysterious tools.

 

Grandma’s house is where closed boxes become chests of secret treasures, ready to be unveiled.

 

Grandma’s house is where toys rarely come ready, they are invented on the spot.

 

Grandma’s house is where everything is mysteriously possible, magic happens and without worries.

 

Grandma’s house is where we find the remains of our parents’ childhood and the beginning of our lives.

 

Grandma’s house, on the inside, is the address of our deepest affection, where everything is allowed.

 

I wonder how our world would be if more children had the opportunity to visit and sleep over at Grandma’s house. Would there be less rancor and division in our society if grandmas would rise up and say enough is enough. Time on Grandma’s lap with a hug and a kiss can do wonders for young, tormented souls.

 

Thanks, gram, for being there for me during those difficult days growing up.