I have not taken the opportunity to write very much lately as I have been pretty busy, to say the least. That has not stopped my brain from swirling around thoughts and ideas of what I should be writing about. So many things going through my head that I must be better about taking a moment to write those down when they pop up.
Lately, thoughts of my grandparents and my childhood visits to Eldorado, IL have been coming to mind. I follow a group on Facebook that posts pictures from days gone by in Eldorado. Days I don't recall but the locations are all very familiar. I think a lot about the home my grandparents built and lived in and raised my mom and uncle in. That house is now gone. I was told that it burned down not long after I took a Mothers Day weekend in 2012 and travelled to Eldorado just so I could drive by that house and get a glimpse of it one more time. The home that had a great big walnut tree in the back yard and it would drop giant walnuts on me and my friends periodically.
The home where I spent countless hours in my pappaws work shop helping him with his projects. The home with the big back yard where I learned how to walk and then run on the stilts my papaw made for me.
The home where at night on the porch we would sit and listen to the cicadas chirp and get louder and louder sending us running into the house when they would suddenly be buzzing around us, scaring us.
The home where I would sit with my pappaw and count the cars as they drove by, keeping tick marks on a piece of cardboard with a pencil sharpened by one of the many pocket knives he possessed. The home where my nana would wake up at 6am and begin making a big breakfast of biscuits and gravy, eggs and bacon (from the butcher). No one cooked like nana. She had a wonderful little apron that she wore most of the time as she was always either cooking or cleaning or sewing.
The home that at one time had a coal burning furnace so there was a coal room in the basement. Coal would be delivered and go down a chute outside the house into this room. Sometimes, I would find myself deciding to just go into that room and lay in there with a book. Odd, I know, but for some reason, I found this room quite comforting.
The home where I learned that my grandfather, because of his mining skills, created a basement under the house with dynamite and then had the house turned to face a different direction.
So, I don't really know why these moments and these thoughts are more prevalent these days. Perhaps it is the fall weather and the smells in the air that remind me of those times. That place and those times are some of the best parts of my life. That home, that once contained the laughter of my ancestors and my family may be no longer, but the heart of those who resided in it and loved it still remains with me forever. I love and miss that home probably more than any other...
