Tuesday, August 12, 2008


This is a different closet. My grandma's walk-in closet. I didn't know anyone ever, growing up, who had a walk-in closet, but my grandma did. She was precious and cherished by my grandpa. They met when he was 25 and she 15 years old. They dated for 10 years before they married--he was determined to build her a house before they married. And, he did. When the first floor was completed, they married. They lived in that house together 46 years and raised 3 daughters and 6 grandchildren. They had 8, but the other two had responsible parents.

We never lived at 215 E. Forest Hill, but we each spent many days and nights there. It was a safe haven. There was discipline and training and morning devotions--we prayed, on our knees in front of the couch or living room chairs. It was long and boring, but worth the price for the peace, safety, and one-on-one attention they gave.

Anyway--back in the closet :)... Grandma prayed in that closet. Maybe even fell asleep sometimes as she was in there a lot. We were blessed to have a grandma who prayed for us each and every day. That closet was holy ground. I do remember her kneeling in front of an upholstered bench--later I found that it actually belonged to a dressing table owned by her sister and should have been surrendered to great uncle Bob after VS's death.

The best news is that I own that bench. It has been reupholstered and has a place of honor in my bedroom. That is the only thing I asked to inherit from my grandparents house. That bench which had a huge part in growing me up to be an emotionally and spiritually healthy woman, and in my academic and work world successes--such as they are.

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