By April Eckwielen
I grew up in a very close-knit family. We weren’t that extended family that only saw each other at the big life events like weddings, graduations and funerals. We saw each other on a weekly basis as well as every holiday, birthday, anniversary, school function etc. My favorite day of the week was Sunday. This was when we would gather at my grandparents’ house. We would spend all day there, playing with my cousins, eating a big family meal, taking trips to the local convenience store for candy (when we couldn’t raid the walnut-shaped candy dish in the living room with the squirrel on top) and just being together. It was my constant and the one placed I truly called “home.”
Of course, I had a home of my own, but my grandparents’ house was the place that truly held up the definition of home. I felt comfortable there and made so many amazing memories in that house. My mother and I moved from place to place for a bit and my grandparents’ house was the one thing I knew would not change. Traditions were made and preserved there, and I made a quiet oath to myself that when I grew up and had a family of my own, that I would pass down some of those traditions and also create new ones so my children could look back and know what the meaning of family was.
I moved away from that home 21 years ago to a place 1500 miles away from all of the familiarity and tradition. I would visit my home whenever I could, but I was now beginning to take that oath I made and make it into a reality. I started my family and wanted to instill in it the traditions I grew up with, along with adding some of our own uniqueness. Holidays were difficult at first because we now had two families to visit, but soon decided that our house would be the hub for spending Christmas together. We at least had this time to all be together and that was our number one priority.
This past summer, I was able to visit and walk through my grandparents’ old house. I hadn’t been in that house in 26 years, even though every time I went home I made a priority of driving by it. Walking through those doors brought back so many wonderful memories. I walked through that house looking around and knowing exactly everything about it. Even though there was new paint on the walls and some renovations to the space, I saw it as it was 26 years ago. It was like I went back in time and nothing had changed. Everything was as I remembered it. The energy I felt walking through the space confirmed what my heart was saying: this was my home. My need for that connection with that house and my family was amplified. It made me treasure the time I spent there and made me look forward to the memories I have yet to make with my children and our families.
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