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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2117735
by JA
Rated: E · Prose · Experience · #2117735
No big bad Wolf here. Just a trip to Grandma's.
The darkness surrounds the big 4-wheel drive truck as you leave the city lights behind. The travel is quiet, down the highways and the byways to that old dirt road. Set back from the well traveled paths, almost hidden among the Pine Trees and Evergreens. Such a well-loved path is never missed even in the darkest of night. As the paleness of rising sun chase the darkness to the west, the world around comes awake and leaves a soft smile on the lips to see once more the beloved meadows.

The pipe fence line gives way to the drive that leads deeper into the meadows, each side lined with large green maple trees. As the drive ends and the noise from the engine quiets with the turn of a key, you begin to relax. You open the door, the sounds of the horses at play, and the fresh scent of early morning air rolls over you like warm blanket. This is where you belong. Home. As you climb out of the truck, the sounds and smells of times gone past come rushing back in. The big red barn in the distance, there is where you spent so much time playing, running, and working. Your feet move as of their own accord up a path so well-known, the tire swing still hangs from the big oak in the front yard. The flowers are in full bloom and the smell is so sweet it speaks of summer to be enjoyed. All the way to the stairs worn by so many feet coming and going as the years flew by. The familiar feel of the wood on the hand rail of the porch. The glass panes in the front door with the curtains open to see down the hallway and that squeak as you turn the knob to open the door.

"We should have oiled that hinge." You think with a smile on the lips.

This is where mistakes were made, lessons were learned, tears were shed, and laughter that filled every room. Here is where meals were shared and talks carried on into the wee hours of the morning sometimes. The hardwood floors that have the echoes of hundreds of steps made on them. Pictures cover the walls for generations and tell the story of those that came before, those here now, and those that have gone on to a better place in the kingdom. Birthdays, Holidays, Weddings, and Funerals. All within these well-loved walls.

This is Grandma's Home.

By JA Sibley
© Copyright 2017 JA (jasib at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2117735