Gratituesday: Precious Memories

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I was able to take a little trip down memory lane over the weekend when we went to Kansas. First, let me give you a little background information:

I grew up in the very same house on the very same farm my entire first eighteen years of life.   The first time I lived somewhere else was when I moved into my college dorm room.

When I was a sophomore in college, my parents moved to another farm. After just a few years of not being lived in, the house I grew up in (which was very, very old) became quite run-down and not livable anymore. The owners chose to tear it down.

So the place where my dad and his wife Tacy live now is actually not the house I grew up in. Matt and the boys never got to see the house I grew up in. Kinda makes me sad. When I tell them of my memories growing up, they picture them in the wrong house.  

No big deal really…but this weekend I had a big urge to show my family where I grew up. I don’t know why I hadn’t taken them by “the old farm place” before. This trip, I just felt like I needed to.

We headed over there right after church Sunday. Since that’s where this tour started…I took a quick picture of the inside of the church building I was “raised in”. This is also where Matt and I got married 15 years ago. 

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Before we went to my old home place, Matt drove us by my grandparent’s farm. Someone else lives there now. Ah, but I saw Grandma’s garden area and clothesline and the old shed. You have NO idea how badly I wanted to get out of the van and run down the driveway to see if my boxcar was still back there. I actually really don’t want to know if it isn’t there anymore. I’m just going to imagine that it’s right where I left it twenty-some years ago.

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We drove the mile and a half from my grandparent’s place to the farm where I grew up. I thought I might be emotional about being there again, especially since hardly anything was left. Instead, I was elated! I was pointing things out to Matt and the boys and getting breathless about the things I was showing them. In the above picture, there is just prairie grass where my house used to stand. I wish I could walk through that house just one more time. 

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Here’s where the big red barn used to stand. Now there is just a big field of maize. If you know this story, then this picture will give you a nice chuckle like it gave our family.  “Hey kids, here’s our big red barn!”…”What big red barn?”  If you don’t know the story, go read it. BUT you must know that while I am responsible for the fact that there is no longer a barn here…I had NOTHING to do with the fact that the house is gone to. m’kay?

 

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Here’s the big huge shed that just a couple of weeks ago caved in. I told the boys that I used to shoot hoops in there and they were impressed (and also surprised). “You DID Mom?”

I realize that to most of you, these shots are just pictures of prairie grass and run down buildings. I guess that’s really all they are. It’s hard to capture all the things I was feeling when I was standing back on my home place. 

Millions of memories of my mom came flooding back. Memories of all the things I used to do as a little girl. Memories of playing in the yard and working in the garden. Good grief…I even had fond memories of the pigs when I stood there that day. 

It was glorious. I’m going to go back there again sometime soon.

Precious, precious memories.
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Comments

  1. says

    Ah, bittersweet. We went back to the farm where I spent my first year, so I don’t remember it at all, but my brother did. He was 3 when we moved, and before they came out, he drew a map of how he remembered the yard. And he was pretty close! Not much has changed there, though, and it isn’t exactly a good thing. Pretty run down after more than 30 years . . .

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  2. says

    What a great story! My mom and her brother own the farm where my grandparents lived when I was a kid. Since we spent so much time there, it felt like it was my home. One visit we stopped by and found a cow who got lose and took shelter in the house! Like “your” farm, the house and some of the outbuildings are torn down now. The old homeplace is over 10 hours away from where we live now, but it is great to visit and share memories of the great times I spent on the farm.

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  3. says

    Oh Laura, I think it is so wonderful to be able to revisit places that have a significant memory! And when places hold beautiful memories for us, it’s so nice to bring them front and center in our thoughts. It kind of refreshes them.

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  4. Christine says

    Really gratefull to have found your blog,now in my favourites… I live in France and my mother still lives in our family landhouse in Burgundy : daddy unfortunately died of cancer 20 years ago and never went to this house when he was ill, so the last memories I have of my dear dad in good shape are in this house and, even 20 years after, I still feel he’s going to come back from the fields in a moment… this is a less and less painful feeling, as years go by.. Today I’m happy for you and your family for this great moment together !

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  5. says

    So, I’m crying over your farm that I’ve never actually been to. But I feel like it’s mine. Lance helped his dad tear down an old family barn a few months ago. Lots of memories in the “old.”

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  6. says

    I totally get it and I completely understand how you feel. Trips back home bring back all kinds of memories and feelings even though things have changed. Even when buildings are gone, we always have our precious memories!

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  7. says

    Ooh! What a pretty church building. I hope you’ll share wedding pictures someday!

    I’m so glad you got to experience the joys of a trip like this. I grew up as a military brat and had lots of different “homes”. It is the neatest feeling to go back to one of them, even though I can’t go inside. Thanks for sharing.

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  8. Laura says

    I remember staying at your house as a kid, and sleeping in your living room… The quilts and quilting supplies, and cross stitch and supplies… Your mom’s braille typewriter… The big shed with the basketball goal (and all the tractors and other farm equipment in there, too)… Your dad having me help get a car back to the house when I was 14 and didn’t have a license…

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  9. Debbie says

    Laura, Thanks for this beautiful post…my parents still live in the house that I grew up in and I really have taken this for granted. To watch my children run around the yard, and sleep in the rooms, and climb the trees just as I did…that is a precious gift. Thanks for reminding me.

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