Moving

Some people love to move. They change houses or even cities on a whim. There's a purging of stuff and a fresh start that they enjoy.

I am not one of these people. I get ridiculously attached to trees and memories made within the bricks and mortar. My childhood home and neighborhood is still there and I like it that way.

My friend is moving and it's a mixed bag of feelings for her. It's a good decision but like me, she's clinging to the memories. I keep reminding her that she has the magic touch -- anywhere she lives will be a home filled with love.

And hopefully, lots of great memories in the making.

So Alive with Children

When the oldies went on their trip to Mississippi, they stopped in Nashville, TN to visit their youngest son and his family. A quick visit turned into a few days. They stopped again on their way back here.

I will be the first to admit that this is an impressive family. They have five (FIVE!) talented and incredibly well-mannered children. I enjoy being around them. I'm sort of in awe of the way they make it seem easy.

I'm flashing back to Thanksgiving of 1991. We invited the family for the long weekend. The oldies came from Mississippi. This brother and his wife arrived with two toddlers and a newborn. (The baby in our house was a toddler too.) The daughter was in that teenage mood that could go from laughter to crankiness in a nanosecond. There were other family members in and out but here's what truly sticks out in my mind from that visit:

A truly God-awful rum cake (provided by the mother-in-law) that the daughter and I took turns cutting, wadding up and finding unique ways to dispose of it. All the while, making faces behind each other's back when one of us was forced to take a bite.

My sister-in-law, nursing a newborn and keeping tabs on the toddlers. Every once in a while, things would start to get rowdy. She would say (in that sweet, gentle southern way,) "You boys play sweet now." And, THEY DID.

We've moved forward a few years now. The other day, I sat eating my lunch while the mother-in-law whipped up the Unabomber's breakfast. Out of the blue, he said, "It was nice in Nashville -- their house is so alive with children."

He meant no offense but it still stung a bit. Yes, the children associated with this house have grown and moved on to new stages in their lives. Isn't that what they're supposed to do?

I kept my mouth shut but I wanted to say, "I know they're an amazing family. Why don't you go live with them?"