Yesterday was perfect for a trip to Tahlequah. It was one of those winter days when the sun promised more than the icy wind allowed. But when the day is cold, conversations with family and friends warm it nicely.
The Japonica bush at my parents’ house is beginning to bloom. It is in a sheltered corner of the garage, somewhat protected from the cold. It is years old, probably as old as the house. I don’t know who planted it but someone did, a long time ago, someone who enjoyed beauty and springtime. 
Sometimes I wonder how all the laughter, the conversations, the people who frequented the house and yard could have vanished. How could their warmth and love and togetherness have passed and now, not a remnant is left? No matter how hard I look, I cannot find them.
The February wind was cold but as I gazed at the old Japonica bush, memories warmed me and that’s the important thing, isn’t it? 
I’ll keep the people whose home this was tucked safely within my heart and borrow them from time to time, just to remember.
I like that phrase “the sun promised more than the icy wind allowed”!
Are you certain that you can’t hear the laughter and feel the warmth that was such a part of that house as you walk through the rooms. ..?
You’re probably right, Missy. I’ve often wondered how so many people got into those rooms and I don’t remember ever feeling crowded. Lots of laughter and good times. A safe place.
Grandma & Grandpa’s house was indeed a safe place that I loved to visit. I never wanted to leave the laughter and the warmth! Reading what you write about this place and remembering Grandma & Grandpa with such love leaves me melancholy, but so grateful for the memories! Thank you so much for sharing your memories with us, Aunt Blanche!
I think Mom and Dad would be happy that we all have good memories of their last earthly home. I remember giggling with Helen and Marcia when we were all washing and drying dishes at the kitchen sink and kept bumping into each other, especially when we bent over!! And then, Missy, Carlene and I were washing dishes another time, and Carlene and I kept wondering why there were so many dishes. Turns out, we were putting the dried dishes on the cabinet and Missy was re-washing. We had a good laugh over that! Do you, Missy, remember? And then the time the storm blew the front-yard maple over, roots and all, and it looked like it was going to fall on the front porch but it didn’t. Lots and lots of good memories.
As you know, Blanche, I love old houses too! There are some majestic old homes here in Galveston. Some were left to ‘die’ after the hurricane went through a few years ago – sad because they had survived the one in 1900. You can still see how grand they were in their day though. Now that we’re sort of like those old houses with only memories of the past, we can appreciate when Solomon said, Remember your Creator in your youth!
I’ve always found it sad when so many homes are left to just waste away slowly. I think of the wonderful workmanship that went into building them and the families they must have sheltered. I always want to rescue each one and of course, that’s impossible. However, Sharon, they can live again in our books!