Sunday, March 13, 2011

Hey girl, your roots are showing...

The everyday woman, when confronted with this taboo phrase, would be offended to say the least. But I'm not talking about those roots. I'm talking about the roots that are still alive. Those roots that we feel so deep in our soul, that just thinking about them makes us want to either smile or cry. Those roots that are often forgotten until we go to look for them...I would like to say I pay more attention to them than I actually do, but it's hard when you get wrapped up in your world. My roots are seen in the mirror that is Shelbyville, Tennessee. And let me tell you, when I glanced about a month ago, they looked spectacular. 

We pulled into the gravel driveway of the little white house on Shelbyview Drive on one of those perfect Sunday afternoons. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones with the weather that only requires a light jacket (even though it's February). The ones that bring you outside of the house that you've been cooped up in since late November. The ones that make you want to be a kid again, and do kid-like things such as climbing a tree (which will show up later...keep reading). We get out of the car and I walk along the stones and onto the sidewalk that leads to my Granny and Grandaddy's house. I walk in to greet the family in the den. We say our hello's and, of course, everyone gravitates toward my little Aiden. I take advantage of this free time to snap some photos of this house that represents so many childhood memories. The first are of the front bedroom. This room is my favorite. My Granny has lots of feminine, shabby-chic touches to it, well aside from the pack'n play and box of wipes on the bed (occupational hazard). On the dresser, I spot this beautiful cross, which speaks to my grandmother and her spirit and what she has instilled in me. Behind it, you'll see a photo of the person from whom my Granny's spirit came, my Granny Donegan with my great grandfather, J.C., who died when I was very young. Next to it, an angel. Makes me smile.
Next, I venture into the kitchen. The hub of this household, if you will. The place where the "magic" happens. The place where many a mouth has been fed. The place where, 9 times out of 10, you'll find my Granny. First, let's see what's on the menu...ahhhh my favorite, chicken poppyseed casserole along with baked ham, mashed potatoes with green peas, deviled eggs, and macaroni and cheese. Heaven on a card table.
Here is Granny, serving the last dish (as if we needed more), corn on the cob.
After eating, or should I say stuffing my face (which I did), we all either gathered at the dining table for girl talk, around the TV for the basketball game, or outside to enjoy the weather. Some of us played with the dogs, Roxy (the boxer-ish pup) and Buddy (our Golden Retriever who now resides on Shelbyview Drive). Mom moved to Green Hills, so Grandaddy, of course, took another pet. He's had 50 pets in his lifetime, what's one more. But that's a whole other story.

and then some of us, just wanted to re-live our childhood by proving we could still do dumb stuff and not get hurt...
While everyone was socializing, I continued to snap some photos throughout the house. These two stood out to me.
I don't believe words can do justice to how proud I am to come from such a wonderful place, such wonderful people. I am so blessed that my son is able to spend his days with these two precious people, in this precious little house on Shelbview Drive. I think he's pretty stoked about it too.
And, as we said our goodbyes, packed up the car, and strapped the little guy in, I just absolutely had to get my camera back out to take this shot. What a great Grandaddy I have. I wonder if he knows how much I love him.
I think the Lord knew that I needed that day. A week later, we discovered that I had miscarried. Now, it has been a month, and I have healed, but still have my sad moments. That is until I come across little things like these photos I took and hadn't viewed until this evening. It's funny how God knows exactly what we need and when we need it. I don't suppose funny would be the word...more like divine. Now, as I look back on this day, I am filled with joy. Joy for having such a glorious childhood in such a charming town. 

The next time someone tells me my roots are showing, I'm gonna thank 'em.

1 comment:

Kristen said...

What a beautiful post! It's such a blessing to come from wonderful roots that you're proud of. The pics reminded me so much of my own grandparents - I think tomorrow I'll give them a call :-)

I'm so sorry to hear about your loss! Praying that your body (and your heart) heal quickly!

Related Posts

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...