Childersburg

In 1953, my grandparents moved into this home. It’s the place where they would go on to raise their two children and where they would spend the next 63 years.

The loss of my grandparents has also meant the loss of this familiar place. Very little was changed here over the years, so stepping inside is a little like going back in time. I had the opportunity to walk through it recently as the packing was being done, and I was flooded with memories in each and every room. Memories of eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on tv trays.  Of summer days in the swimming pool and picking strawberries in Grandmother’s garden. I was reminded of slumber parties in the basement with my cousin and of learning to play corn hole in the backyard.

The house today is tired. It’s dusty and empty and quiet. But in my memory, the house is clean and tidy and full of people. There’s a kaleidoscope on the coffee table and a jar of pretzels on the kitchen counter. There’s a mini fridge full of coca-cola and a garage stuffed with Grandfather’s “treasures”. And that’s the version of the house that I’m going to hold onto.

*  In loving memory of Richard Joseph Peterson and Marilyn Tanner Peterson *