I wrote about these four lovely ancestors in several chapters of my memoir, "From Pigtails to Chin Hairs," and how much they meant to me. The following is the last paragraph in the chapter, "A Timeless Journey."
The furniture, pictures on the walls, and
old-fashioned knick-knacks were always the same: crocheted doilies here and
there, roller shades on the windows, white sheets on the beds that smelled like
sunshine, and Grandma’s quilt with the little, yellow sunbonnets on it. This
was a place where time stood still—no matter how long between visits—and always
surrounded me with feelings of love, comfort, and home.
The next time I visit Greenfield, I think it will be difficult to not drive along SW 2nd Street, the way I've always done before, looking for that familiar home, but I'm also sure it would be very depressing to see an empty lot. Only time will tell.
