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This house holds so many memories I though as I looked around the cold damp great room. The cold, crisp air whipped in between the logs and made me shiver. I looked to the fire place and saw the tall silver urns that until recently had always been on the mantelpiece of Ma’s house but now it was our house, again. Walking towards what was to be my room for the next few months, I passed the intricately carved wooden bench and the bright white sofa that was always covered with a sheet to keep it safe and clean. This house is the main place that my memories of my grandmother take place, and moving into it only months after she had passed away made me relive those memories all at once.
“The pirates are coming”, I shouted.
My grandmother, Ma, my brother, Baylen, and I were all sitting on mismatched chairs around a blue rug with delicate tan flowers circling its border. Ma sat on the ladies chair which was a round low dirty green colored chair that looked like it was 100 years old. Baylen sat on the gentleman’s chair which was square with a small round ottoman, but otherwise the same as the ladies chair. I sat on the large wooden chair with faded flower cushions that hardly softened the hard flat wooden seat. On the solid wood arms was an intricate carving of leafy foliage.” The pirates stole our battery,”I exclaimed. “Well I guess we’re stuck here,” Ma replied.
As I passed the bookshelf I remembered the Childcraft books Ma always used to read to us from. “A farmer has a wolf, some grain and a chicken that he needs to get across the river. His boat can carry only him and one of the three items. He cannot leave the chicken and the grain together or transport them together. He cannot leave the chicken and the wolf together or transport them together. How does he get them all across?” Ma asked.” He could take the chicken over and then come back and take the grain over…oh wait, he could take the wolf over and then come back and take the… oh wait then he would have left the chicken and grain…” I stared at the dusty bookshelf as I pondered the solution…
This made me think about all that Ma had been to me. She was a teacher, a friend and a loving grandmother. She taught us new words out of the encyclopedia, but could also play make believe with me for hours.
Only a few months before when I had come to this house to visit Ma in her final days the house seemed dirty and sad. The kitchen was empty, the antique furniture was gathering dust, and the whole house felt sick. When you walked in the sadness overwhelmed you. Even though the rooms were full of things it felt empty. The house had lost its life that always used to possess it. The hospital bed and the wheelchair in the corner, the soft tinkling sound of a bell ringing and Fox five on even when no one was awake. Months later the house still felt filled by its former owner, but now there were happy memories as well as sad moments. The happy memories filled up the house until Ma got sick there had been only sad memories for a time, but now as I looked around the great room I could remember both the good and the bad, happy and the sad. As my eyes came to rest upon the life-size portrait of Ma I could envision her young and happy playing with us and reading to us with a smile on her face and knew that she would always remain in this house.





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