You know when people talk about their Grandma's house like it was magical? Like it was the best part of their childhood? Like it's the best place on earth? I'm one of those people.
I love my Grandma's house. I remember driving from our home in Kentucky to my Grandma's house in Iowa as a child. It was an eight hour drive, but with four kids under the age of 8 it was closer to 12 hours. We would pull into the driveway and I could usually see Grandma peering out the kitchen window at us. We'd climb out of the van and she'd come out through the garage and we'd all run up and hug her.
Then in we'd go. I would walk into the kitchen and floor would creak. There would be all sorts of snacks for us on the orange counter tops and the fridge would be full of 6 different kinds of koolaid. It was the only time I got koolaid. I remember walking into her house and smelling the smell of Grandma's and thinking to myself "Am I really here?" Do you remember thinking to yourself "I wish time would stop."? I do. And it was at Grandma's.
I smile even now, blogging from her couch. Tomorrow we're heading home to Pittsburgh. And it will be nice to be home and to get on with "life". But I'm loathe to leave Grandma's house. I'm not 8 years old anymore but it's still one of my favorite places on earth. It's like a happy alternate reality for me. And I'm so glad I can bring Gideon here.