It occurred to me that the emptiness was a result of not waking to the traditional smell of country sausage frying on the stovetop and biscuits rising to meet a golden brown in the oven. Christmas Days in this house were always full of excitement for me as a child. I can remember begging my Mother to start the phone calls to my brothers and sisters. I always pretended that I was calling to give a cheery, "Merry Christmas"; however, in reality, it was a way for me to try to figure out how long it would be before they all arrived. Their arrival was met with mounds of brightly colored packages and lots of good things to eat. Oh, the memories!
Out of respect for my family, I have not openly discussed how it came to be that I returned home last December. It was totally unexpected; however, it did come with much thought and much discussion with my husband and my children. I consider it a huge responsibility to be here and one that I do not take lightly. Happy Hollow, as my parents called it when I was growing up, is a beautiful place and my intent is to make it as happy as I can in respect of my parents and the time that they spent here farming, raising the ones of us who were not yet out on our own, and eventually, watching as their grandchildren came and went.
My Dad died seventeen years ago. While I have always felt his presence, I feel it more now than ever and, somehow, I hope that he is smiling down on Happy Hollow. Thankfully, Mama is doing well. Although, her thoughts are much different than they once were, I am, again, thankful that she has been home to see the things that we have done. She seems quite content in knowing that we are doing all that we can to make this place what it once was when she and Daddy were able to maintain it together.
I have a lot of things that I want to do here and lots of ideas that seem larger than even possible. We'll see..............
1 comment:
Lovely post, Trudy, thanks for sharing.
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