heritage.

her name is laura ann. his name is donald herbert.
he was quarterback. she was cheerleader.

they fell in love at a much simpler time. no computers, no gadgets, yet fifty years later, their 21 year old grandchild is blogging about them in one of their many, many bedrooms in their huge, huge house.

they are my grandparents. my family. my heritage.

this weekend we journeyed to tampa, my birthplace and the current residence of my mother's half of the family. i have somewhere between 15-20 first cousins on this side.....no joke. and now those cousins, the ones i grew up with, are all having babies and families of their own.

we had sara's baby shower with friends and family down here and i couldn't help but think of all the memories that reside in this house. just like every time i come back here.

have you ever had one of those places that never change on you? no matter how many times you move, friends you go through, or memories you make, this place never changes.
my grandparents house, has always been the same. it even smells. the same.

i get asked the same questions:
"so, natalie, do you have a beau?"
no grandmom.

she uses words like 'beau'. i roll my eyes, but, i secretly adore it.

i wake up at the college-age time every morning of 'at least 10:30am and arrive in the kitchen to my granddad's "oh! i already called the mortician! i guess we can tell him not to come now that you're awake."

oh you and your precious bald head. i have come to expect that joke, sir. 

but i can't help to reminisce every time i stay here.

the stairs i will always remember, just slippery enough for me and my cousins to slide down on my grandmother's extra large seat cushions.

the same old pool balls, one of which my sister threw through the glass gun case when she was ten years old.

the lake we swam in, looked for clams in, and learned to water ski and tube in. the one with the island in the center we could conduct adventures and laugh for hours.

the bathroom with the ugly wallpaper and matching curtains and shower drapes.

the creepy yet comforting dolls and figurines collected from distant lands, both sentimental and beautiful, each one in their own way.

the back yard i played countless hours in, with snakes, bugs, and the type of grass i have never found  anywhere else.

i'm convinced there's no greater, springey-er, grass in all the world.

the same back yard we searched for lizards and easter eggs in.

the heritage.

and now it is all happening with the younger ones. they will play in the yard just like we did.

they will make the same memories, smell the same smells, celebrate the same holidays, and all that is cradled inbetween.

 

they will blow out the candles all together, just like we did.

i am thankful. i am so blessed. and though our family, just like every other family, has issues of our own, we can come together under this one roof and love eachother year after year after year, birthday after party after babyshower-- and know that none of it will ever change.

at least for today.