Leave the Light on For Me

This week, I took Kaela and Ben on a tour of their heritage. (Kinda. Really, we just visited family.) This is my favorite part about having summers off--long visits with the ones who've always been there!

First, we went to see my grandmother, Mama Ann, who is my dad's mom. She lives in Western Kentucky, in the house they've lived in since I was small. Kaela's old enough now to hear stories along the way, so I narrated as we traveled. I showed her the place where my Daddy died on a tractor on my Mom's birthday, almost 21 years ago now. I showed her where he's buried, right next to his dad--the Papaw who gave all of us his hearty laugh, mischevious manner, and Roman nose (as he called it, because it "roams" all over our faces.) I took them to the park where Grandaddy got his car stuck on the railroad tracks during a tee-ball game, and where we waited for AAA (who ALMOST got there in time). I showed them the worn place in the yard where Papaw's hammock was, where we grandkids flipped and tumbled. I showed them where I got my first wasp sting, where the tombstone fell over on Pete, the place where the garden was where we learned to work in peppers, and where I learned to do a cartwheel. I taught Kaela to do a cartwheel in that same spot this week.

After our visit with my godly grandmother, I felt so encouraged and refreshed. We meandered along the way to visit Mom and Pop next, stopping for a few minutes on a roadside playground. In my quest to conserve gas and enjoy the trip, I missed the highway to go directly to their house. Probably, actually, though, I was directed by instinct as ingrained in me as my Roman nose--because the next thing I knew, we were crossing Rough River on the roundabout route home. I had meant to pick up some lunch and eat with Mom, but when I realized I was at my old stomping ground, a new plan was quickly formed. I pulled into Laslie's gas station (I grew up with his girls), and bought sandwich fixings, then Kaela, Ben and I had a picnic on the North Fork Beach there close to home. We ate next to the bridge where all of us seniors went on Senior Skip Day, and played in the waves that are nearly as familiar to me as my own skin. I caught up with 2 former classmates and their families in the 2 hours that we were there, and called a couple of old friends whose numbers I still have memorized. I understand that it's a little out of the ordinary to call old high school friends in the middle of the day on a Thursday, but when you're home, time is inconsequential. It was the best spontaneous 2 hours I've spent in I don't know how long, and I am so glad I missed my exit! Part of me will always miss being home on the lake.

We took the long way home, and once I got here Eric had something he had to do, so I called Rose and asked if I could bring her dinner in exchange for the pleasure of her company. In the meantime, the rain had begun to pour, and by the time I was on the road again, a torrential deluge threatened to keep me away. When lightning streaked the sky just in front of me, I tried to recall the meteorologist's advice (Do you stay in the car? Pull over? Go in a house? Or was it a ditch?) to no avail. I finally figured that in any kind of disaster, my obvious course of action would be to head to the nearest OPC's house, and so I continued on to Rose's. In the meantime, she called to let me know that she had left the garage door opened for me, so I could just run right in through the kitchen.

By the time I got to Rose's house, I was sure that we'd be in for another predestined slumber party because of flooding, and that open garage was the best thing I'd seen all evening. I ran through the garage, and "home" again for the 3rd time this week...where the restoration and renewing began all over again, in the company of one of my dearest friends.

I told Rose I was going to blog about our adventures in bad weather, and I'm sure she thinks it will be a comedy...but the thing I'm thinking tonight is just how very grateful I am to have places to come in from the storms of life. My grandmother, my Mama, my memories of growing up in the country, my friends...to get to share those parts of my own heritage with my children this week has been worth more than riches. Home is the thing that gets us through this soujourn on Earth sometimes. It makes me want to leave our porch light on tonight just a little longer than usual.