Day 2: Grandma's House

You would think that since I have been gone for over 15 years from the house that things would have changed. This was not the case at all! The moment I stepped in the front door, the smell pulled me right back to my childhood. Smells from Grandma's kitchen are engraved into the walls forever. Dripping with butter, Sunday dinners, pot roasts, Pavlova's, cookies by the hundreds. I did manage to take a peek in the cookie jar, and stole one...or two before I ventured into the rest of the house. The wallpaper was exactly the same. The old paintings hung in their same spots. Grandma had still kept the small bathtub from when we were kids. Carpets were the same. Same bed linen and sheepskin rugs in the bedrooms...just like I remember. And each room had it's own unique smell...that I remembered so well. I will never forget those smells! Outside, in the backyard, there were a few things missing. The presence of Grandpa was no longer here. The lemon trees needed a good pruning, the green house was now a rotting jungle, and you could tell the BBQ pit had not been used in ages. This is when the reality hit that Grandpa was gone. And as I looked over and saw the old, rusted wheelbarrow sitting lifeless...like an heirloom, it saddened me to see death creeping in on Grandma's house. But I guess that is the nature of this world. Life, death, and rebirth. No worries though Grandpa's spirit is engraved into the walls there too.