Grandpa and I stand on the back porch --- waving ---waving--- as the last car disappears and is hidden from sight. Tucked away somewhere among all those suitcases -- and pillows -- and little swimming suits -- car seats -- paper plates -- food -- is a little piece of our hearts.
It is quiet --- oh so terribly quiet. A single plane flies over head. A bob-white calls from somewhere in the north 40. A robin chirps overhead --- but it is SO quiet.
The old stock tank stands empty---its dirty water looking up at us. The slip and slide lays limp in the grass. The picnic table stands alone under the old tree. The four - wheeler stands quiet in the shed. It is just so quiet --- my heart tries not to hurt --- but a tear slides down my cheek -- and then another -- and yet another.
I tiptoe into the house. Looking --- looking for what?? Maybe little smiley faces --- maybe hoping to hear the sound of little feet as they pitter-patter across the floor to me? But all I see is dirty dishes waiting to be cleaned. A pile of stuffed animals setting in the corner. A sleeping bag and pillow laying alone on the bedroom floor---empty beds starring at me. Towels flung on the bathroom sink--night lights still plugged in. Toy boxes lined up against the walls. All I can hear is the air-conditioner turning on and off. So empty--so quiet. Just Grandpa and me.
Cars can take them away but memories stay forever. I set on the couch and---remember. Little bare tummies and backs glistening in the sun as they run to the old stock tank -- and jump in. The exciting squeals as they slide down the water slide. The "Namina watch this" and the "Grandma come here fast" The sound of little "pitter-pats" as baby crawls across the floor and reaches up to you. Little secrets whispered behind little hands. Looking up and seeing a four-wheeler go past--one driving and four little heads laying on pillows and a old blanket in the wagon --just a bouncing---laugher fading away. It seems like those memories are bouncing off every wall in this old farm house.
They were fun filled sunny county days. Filled with six precious little children. We love our little simple farm--but holding a little hand snug in ours makes it so much better. Or little boys setting in the tractor cab with grandpa--asking question after question. Or chasing fireflies in the dark and running--little hands clasped together--"grandpa I got one -- open the jar lid" Little arms reaching up to yours--little eyes looking into yours--- little voice whisper into your ear "I love you grandma" Hopping into the old brown pick-up -- with buckets and ladder-- going mulberry hunting--sometimes more get in the tummy than in the bucket. Picking tomatoes, corn, beans and okra out of the garden together. Smiles on little faces as they rib their corn on the cob in the butter---leaving corn hairs in the butter.
Yes it is so empty--this ole farmhouse-- but I just smile---and reach for grandpas hand---we walk hand in hand together out to feed the calves. Life goes on---here at the farm.
a
It is quiet --- oh so terribly quiet. A single plane flies over head. A bob-white calls from somewhere in the north 40. A robin chirps overhead --- but it is SO quiet.
The old stock tank stands empty---its dirty water looking up at us. The slip and slide lays limp in the grass. The picnic table stands alone under the old tree. The four - wheeler stands quiet in the shed. It is just so quiet --- my heart tries not to hurt --- but a tear slides down my cheek -- and then another -- and yet another.
I tiptoe into the house. Looking --- looking for what?? Maybe little smiley faces --- maybe hoping to hear the sound of little feet as they pitter-patter across the floor to me? But all I see is dirty dishes waiting to be cleaned. A pile of stuffed animals setting in the corner. A sleeping bag and pillow laying alone on the bedroom floor---empty beds starring at me. Towels flung on the bathroom sink--night lights still plugged in. Toy boxes lined up against the walls. All I can hear is the air-conditioner turning on and off. So empty--so quiet. Just Grandpa and me.
Cars can take them away but memories stay forever. I set on the couch and---remember. Little bare tummies and backs glistening in the sun as they run to the old stock tank -- and jump in. The exciting squeals as they slide down the water slide. The "Namina watch this" and the "Grandma come here fast" The sound of little "pitter-pats" as baby crawls across the floor and reaches up to you. Little secrets whispered behind little hands. Looking up and seeing a four-wheeler go past--one driving and four little heads laying on pillows and a old blanket in the wagon --just a bouncing---laugher fading away. It seems like those memories are bouncing off every wall in this old farm house.
They were fun filled sunny county days. Filled with six precious little children. We love our little simple farm--but holding a little hand snug in ours makes it so much better. Or little boys setting in the tractor cab with grandpa--asking question after question. Or chasing fireflies in the dark and running--little hands clasped together--"grandpa I got one -- open the jar lid" Little arms reaching up to yours--little eyes looking into yours--- little voice whisper into your ear "I love you grandma" Hopping into the old brown pick-up -- with buckets and ladder-- going mulberry hunting--sometimes more get in the tummy than in the bucket. Picking tomatoes, corn, beans and okra out of the garden together. Smiles on little faces as they rib their corn on the cob in the butter---leaving corn hairs in the butter.
Yes it is so empty--this ole farmhouse-- but I just smile---and reach for grandpas hand---we walk hand in hand together out to feed the calves. Life goes on---here at the farm.
a
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