Grandma's House Is My Happy Place

The pain was excruciating. I was in labor with my daughter, and she was coming fast. The nurse was trying to console me. “You’ve got this! Keep breathing, keep breathing. Go to your happy place.” My happy place? I thought. Okay, that’s easy. My happy place is Grandma’s house.

Growing up we didn’t go on many vacations. If we wanted to get away, we would go to Grandma’s house. Luckily, Grandma’s house was only a two-hour drive away.

Grandma’s house has red bricks, large windows, and a gravel driveway. The towering trees dot the massive yard and hold up the tire swing. The white vinyl fence surrounds the yard. The pasture beyond the yard corrals the horses. The dogs and Canadian geese roam the grounds. On the other side of the gravel driveway runs the canal. Grandma’s grand garden blooms in a corner of the yard and her irises overtake the flower beds next to the house.

My childhood memories were made there. We rode horses, picked raspberries, got sick on the tire swing, tubed down the canal, got chased by hissing geese, played with our cousins, changed sprinklers in the pasture, picnicked in the yard, and snuck ice cream bars from the back porch freezer.

Now that I am an adult, I still love to visit Grandma’s house, but it’s a different place. Now, I take my kids to their happy place: my mom’s house. If I ask my kids what they want to do on any given day, they shout in unison: Go to Grandma’s house! If I ask my kids what they want to do for their birthdays, they beg to go to Grandma’s house. One summer, my oldest son went on a special camping trip with my husband. While they were gone, I took the rest of the kids to Grandma’s house. When they got home from their trip my son was devastated that we had gone to Grandma’s house without him. He still hasn’t forgiven me.

At my mom’s house, the sun shines brighter, the swings swing higher, and the food tastes superior. The cousins run rampant, and the parties never cease. It is a joyful place, full of love and belonging where my kids can make their own childhood memories. It is an anchor for my family. A place we can always count on. A place we are taken care of.

As I get older and make more goals for my life, I think about what kind of legacy I want to leave for my posterity. What kind of grandma do I want to be? I pray I can follow in my Grandma’s and my mom’s footsteps and create my grandkids’ happiest place.