On vacation

Has it really been three weeks since I've posted? Yikes! I've not been overly busy, but there has been a real loud silence between my ears most days.

We are on a short vacation right now. We left home Monday afternoon and drove to San Diego, where my parents live with my grandmother Charlene Watson. She's a great lady, and we love to be here in her home. Now that Mom and Dad are here, too, it's an even greater treat to be here.

Granddad "Bud" Watson built this house... rather, he put it together. It had been part of a government building somewhere in town, and he had it moved to this lot in Bay Park, and made it into a small house for him, his wife, and their two young daughters. That was in the late '40s. They made some additions over the years, with a master bedroom and bathroom, larger kitchen, and a "prophet's chamber" on the patio with its own bathroom. With only a few breaks, my grandmother has lived here ever since.

Granddad died 7 years ago, and he is missed, but he's also very much present in this house. The living room has held so many people through the years, in large and small numbers. In this house, so many have found wise counsel, tender compassion, and a love strong enough to tell even the most difficult truths. In the adjacent dining room, so many wonderful meals have been shared with family, friends, and people in need. In the kitchen, the table has known more games of spades, forty-two, and Scrabble than most homes in America! The bedrooms have heard so many bedtime stories and prayers of my mother and aunt, my brothers and I and our cousins, and now of my own children and my neice. The "prophet's chamber" on the patio has hosted many young men looking for work as preachers, people on the move, and visiting friends. The yard has been the scene of so many playtimes, you couldn't count all the games played.

This house is full of love. It's so wonderful to see my own kids playing here as I did. There are so many objects in the house that I can remember from my childhood: the cookie jar, which is always filled whenever a grandchild comes to visit; the unique lamps in the living room -- one of which I broke part of years ago, but it is still in use; the secretary desk in my grandmother's room; the clock my mother made for my grandparents nearly 30 years ago;... There are so many memories in this place and in these objects.

My granparents passed on their legacy of faith to their daughters, and that has been passed on to their children. My grandmother worries that we haven't kept the faith -- not everone does church the way she approves of, and some even attend with other denominations. But she still loves us, and loves to have us here, loves to beat us at Scrabble, and play silly games with the kids. She and my grandfather showed us how to love our families. I pray that I have learned that lesson well enough for my kids to be able to pass it on to their kids.