Things Will Never Be The Same

Those are the lyrics to a Tupac song but that’s how I felt leaving the farm Saturday night. I think Sydney knew I needed to be surrounded by family and she hung outside with us until almost midnight.

My grandparents were blessed to live in this house for over fifty years. If you read my memoir I Am Enough, you know the significance of this home. We would travel to Delaware from Michigan excited to gather on the farm with family. It wasn’t just family it was friends and anyone passing by.

When I start to cry thinking about not having the farm house anymore I think of things that boggle my mind about the farm.

First, how did my grandparents raise a family with only one bathroom? How did we have family gatherings and sleepovers with only one bathroom? How did we store all of the food that they always prepared? Where does that door lead to upstairs near the window? I think about the Christmas Plague as I called it. It was the one Christmas where the entire house except for three people came down with the worst stomach virus ever!!! Cue the one bathroom question.

People were married in that yard, we had all night pig roasts, basketball games, volleyball games, Easter egg hunts, family reunions and the list goes on. The amount of cooking and love in that kitchen was amazing.

The farm was my place of security, love and entertainment. I had my first drink of beer at the farm compliments of my PopPop Matthew. He gave all the grandchildren a taste and we giggled and danced the night away.

We would get dressed up only to walk around the house and end up in the den where my aunts and uncles would sing Silent Night by The Temptations. We had Soul Train dance lines. Mommy was Gladys Knight and her brother were The Pips.

We would always be so excited when Grandma Bertha came home from The Big House as we called it for lunch and we were sad when she would leave again to go back to work in the afternoon.

The times we spent on the farm taught me about the importance of family and how special it was to fellowship on happy occasions.

As a child I thought that house was a magical castle and I never wanted to leave it. I’m thankful that Harrison and Sydney had an Easter egg hunt on the farm and experienced great times with family.

It was hard walking away from that house and I took my time to cry. We had a chance to take something to remind us of the farm. Sydney took an angel and a blanket that Grandma Bertha knitted. Harrison took a crucifix and statue of a dog, since he said that’s the closest he will get to owning one. I took “the stool” and two decorations for the garden.

The stool was the grandchildren’s favorite thing in Grandma’s room. We would spin around in it until we were dizzy! I’m going to pass the stool along each month to a different cousin so they can reminisce about that blue stool!

Change is difficult and saying goodbye is sad. For me, leaving the farm reminded me of the way I felt when I left Michigan. The tears will stop flowing and I’ll focus on the memories and laughter that we experienced. The holidays will be tough because that is where our entire family would gather. Now we will continue the tradition that was instilled in us on the farm, but at a new family member’s home. We will never forget the memories and the people that touched our lives on the farm.



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