I was cleaning out cabinets yesterday – everything that goes along with Spring cleaning. I got as far as the “junk drawer” in the kitchen. You know you have one, it’s mandatory. That job always takes forever and often ends up looking just like it did when I first opened it. I came across recipes written in my Mother’s handwriting. I tucked them right back in the old checkbook cover that she kept them in. I found pencils that I know were tucked behind my Dad’s ear as he took on project after project. I will never get rid of any of these things. They allow me to feel those gentle tugs back in time. I used to lay on a countertop in this kitchen to get my hair washed. I ate dough from another kitchen table in that same room as my Grandmother made rolls. I sat on the back steps with Dad and drank my “coffee” and counted squirrels in this same yard on Spring mornings.
I am so grateful to live in a house that feels like on big hug. I’m grateful that the memories have survived all of the remodeling jobs. I’m grateful that I have such vivid recollections and that they are such good ones. I know that I am blessed to have been raised with love. The world is a different place today – not better or too much worse than it has always been. I hope that love prevails.