I’ve always been a bit envious of people who got to grow up very near to their grandparents, seeing as how my father’s military career kept us farther away from our relatives. I never got to run over to grandma’s after school, or play with cousins on a regular basis. Both sets of my grandparents live in Columbus, Ohio (Go Buckeyes!!!) and that was a good ten hours away from the Naval Base housing in Norfolk Virginia, and even further from other my dad’s other assignments, like Jacksonville, Fl and Newport, RI. Thankfully, every summer my parents would load up our big blue Chevy Astro, compete with our bikes on the bike rack, the six of us kids, and we would drive to Ohio to spend a couple of very happy weeks with our grandparents. We always stay at my maternal grandparent’s, Nanny & PopPop’s, and take turn spending the night at my paternal grandparent’s house, Grandma Jan and PopPop, who only live ten minutes away. We would be doted on by my mom and dad’s many siblings, and were generally royally spoiled during our visits. Like I said, we did this every summer (besides the summer that Patrick made his appearance in mid-August), and I assumed things would never change. Ohio was my happy place. Where the grass was greener, where there was no school, where my cousin & I spent all day playing on the tree in the backyard, where we played hide-n-go seek in the basement (basements were a HUGE novelty to me, don’t find too many basements living so close to the water!), hours ofentertainment sending messages down the laundry shoot, Nanny’s cooking, PopPop’scandy , my aunt Angie’s room where I could here the laughter and chatter of my mom and her sisters long after we were tucked into bed.
Now things are different. My big ‘ole family can’t seem to coordinate schedules to get to Ohio together, so we all go separately at different times in the summer, there are not a lot of toys littering the basement floor, my beloved cousin is living in Arizona, and the tree in the backyard no longer has a tire swing hanging from it. I’ll admit it, I am a big baby about change. I was feeling really nostalgic this summer when Marcus and I made the trek up to Nanny’s. Yes, a lot of things have changed, but as I walked around taking some pictures of my favorite spots at Nanny’s, there was so much of the same.
{Dried flowers in pretty vases. Miniature tea sets. The smell of tar blacktop driveways. The old brick walkway to Nanny’s front door. Bunnies and chipmunks in my Aunt Angie’s garden. Riverside drive. Buicks and Cadillac's from my grandfather’s used car lot in the drive. Loud creaky floors. Nanny’s bunny decorations. Old photographs. Nanny’s voice when she answers the phone “Hi, Honey.” The music box on the dresser in the room I’ve rested my curly head for the past 24 years. Longaberger baskets. Thecandy shelf, where I snuck so many M&M’s. The smell of Nanny’s bread. The smell of strong coffee in the morning. Walking to St. Andrew’s on Sunday. The bells of St. Andrews. The smudged wall in the toy room—where all our height measurements were taken with love from Nanny. The boy Zach next door and his tree house. Hastings pool. Columbus Clipper baseball games and Wyandot lake. Riding our bikes up the hill. Playing Cowboys at the ‘bar’ in the basement, ‘smoking’ Lincoln logs ;) I could go on and on. Probably one of the best things about going ‘home’ during the summers was how happy my mother was when we were there. In the house she grew up in and loved. In the town were her and my dad fell in love. In the company of her mother and brothers and sisters and all their warmth and love}
This is the first of a series I will be doing on some special places, places that I have have crystal clear memories in my head, places that shaped me :)
**DISCLAIMER** These pictures are nothing fantastic, simply meant to be a snapshot of a scene I already know in my heart! NOT professional photographs here, friends..sorry!
