Oh-Bla-Di

The last two years have been rough for my mom’s side of the family. In October 2007, just before Ava was born, my Auntie Jean passed away. I wasn’t able to fly home for her funeral because Ava was due so soon.

Thankfully, I was able to travel to DC in April 2008 to meet my mom, her sisters, and Unkie for a visit to the World War II memorial. Unkie was a veteran of that war and, in 2008, was finally ready to begin opening up about his experiences and acknowledging the sacrifices he’d made on our behalf. I was so honored to be with him that day and to be part of his family.

Ava and I traveled home to Kansas to visit later in April and met Unkie at the yellow farmhouse that had become my family’s gathering place over the last 15 years. My mom’s parents had passed when I was younger, so Auntie and Unkie, along with their home, became my fill-in grandparents.

For two weeks nearly every summer growing up, Wes and I would go spend time at this house. Who knows what we did besides plenty of dishes by hand and riding on tractors, but that place – its upstairs rooms full of ancient treasures and old creaky furniture – became a second home. It burned when I was in high school, but Auntie and Unkie rebuilt and improved it. There was no more orange carpet and the entire floorplan of the upstairs changed. Still, it was home.

The kitchen was only “big enough for one butt,” as family lore goes, but one Memorial Day it held at least six teenaged cousins and partially contained an all-out towel snap war.

The window coolers only ever put out enough cool air to keep the dining room cool and Unkie would take his after lunch nap on the floor under it every day in the summer.

I love that yellow house on the corner and those people. My mind and heart are filled with too many happy memories of both to even begin to count.

On June 6, 2008, Unkie passed away. It’s probably fitting that it was D-Day. The sale of Auntie and Unkie’s farm was last fall and, as the land and house were sold, my family’s last legal tie to that place in Osborne county was gone.

We were fortunate to gather at the home of friends for Memorial Day this year and, of course, the cemetery is always there. We continue to be pulled home, even after our loved ones have left us.

After a lovely afternoon on Memorial Day, Matt, Mom, Ava and I were in the van on the way back to McPherson, just past Alton, when I realized I hadn’t been up to the yellow house that day. I couldn’t go home without having seen it at least one more time – you never know when it might not be there to come home to.

Standing empty, the house looked a little more sad. With no welcoming face at the front screen door, I noticed the peeling paint for the first time. My heart broke. We didn’t have keys anymore to go inside and the only window I could see in was the back screen door into the kitchen. I pressed my face against the glass and willed my heart indoors to a place of comfort and love as tears streamed down my face. In my heart, I’m so thankful that so much of myself has been shaped in that home and by the people who lived there.

Goodbye, yellow house. I’ll love you forever.

Memorial Day is big in my family. We all get together twice a year – Christmas and Memorial Day. For as long as I can remember, we’ve gathered at the family farm on Memorial Day to visit our family at the Pleasant Valley cemetery and then to enjoy a great potluck lunch. I love these gatherings. They are truly home to me. My people are there.

We meet at the cemetery on Monday morning and visit those we knew and those we didn’t. Grammie Webb, Grandpa and Grandma Webb are there and now Auntie and Unkie have joined Raenetta beside them. We say hi to these people we love and then wander to say hi to Slave Girl Hattie, who has been there at least one hundred years, and the little girl with the flat, broken stone. It’s comfortable in this place – not scary or creepy or cemetery-like at all. This is a gathering of family.

On Memorial Day, flags line the center walkway of the cemetery. Until this year, Unkie had taken charge of hanging the flags. Each one represents a member of this rural community who had served…several of them my family. The flags whip in the wind (and the wind always blows on Memorial Day) and truly bring the meaning of the day to our hearts and minds. This year, Unkie’s flag joins the rest.

Now, at Memorial Day, a new generation of little kids is learning about our family and our traditions. They’re learning to count by playing lawn chair volleyball and getting to do that thing that makes farm kids special – run amok and get dirty. I love that Ava got to meet so many of her cousins. Somehow, they knew they were family and there wasn’t a single quibble or clingy kid. What a treasure photos like these are.

After a not-so-bad two days of driving, we got to spend a lovely week in Kansas visiting my family.

For the first couple of days, we had a pretty tired baby on our hands. That’s not such a problem, though, when you have plenty of adoring arms to cuddle you during a nap. Turns out Uncle Wes makes a great pillow and a baseball game on TV is the best lullaby on the planet.

Then, when it’s time to finally get down to the business of playing, you find that those adoring arms are attached to adoring people who are willing to entertain you at just about any cost.

Nothing like having a Grandad who has been professionally trained to run little kids ragged and teach them how to have fun!

As we were finishing up our lunch, we heard the thunder start to roll in. Probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to watch a thunderstorm roll in over this beautiful desert landscape. It rained for the remainder of our drive to Albuquerque that day. A week later, as we drove back, water was still standing in puddles in this area from the storm. Very cool. We *heart* national parks.

On the Friday before, Matt and I had a whole date day to celebrate. We went to breakfast at the Bellagio, to see the new Star Trek movie on the IMAX and then to dinner at the Melting Pot with the Hoffmans. Amazingly fun times.

Then, on the birthday eve, we went to a Las Vegas 51s baseball game. We were able to meet up with lots of other friends and had a joint celebration of Matt & Dave’s birthdays.

Since we were leaving on his actual birthday, Matt got to open his presents early. The following is separated by about a week, but really shows that the kid’s got a really one track mind. It’s all about putting a tent in the house. Oy. Good thing I think he’s great. Happy Birthday, Matt!

So, after we got back from our trip on Saturday, we just had to put the tent up in the living room.

In the end, the tent was a big hit and we had a great time playing in it. Can’t wait for our first camping trip with it!