Time Stands Still At Grandma's House Part VI

After you read this sentence, close your eyes and picture walking into your grandma’s house.  What do you see?  What do you hear?  What do you smell?  What do you touch?  What do you feel?  What do you taste?  While both of my grandmothers have passed away, the memories of the sights, sounds, smells, touches, tastes, feelings are as fresh now as they were when I was a child. What is it about Grandma’s house that always must remain unchanged?  This is the last blog post in a series on time; I hope you have enjoyed this 6 week journey into time.

Did you smell and taste tuna casserole, see Jello molded and wiggling on a plate, observe 1950s furniture and decor - like a 1950s museum, find a can of Spam that expired in 1942 in the kitchen cupboard, heard the stereo system, spied a typewriter, smelled the scent of your grandma’s dusty powder, smiled at her apron hanging on a hook in the kitchen? Did memories come back to you? Time stands still in Grandma’s house. https://takesmeback.com/what-grandmas-house-looked-like-in-the-1960s-and-why-it-never-changed/. While the rest of the world changes at a dizzying pace, time stood still at her home.  Grandma’s house may have been a stabilizing anchor for you.

Several years ago, I drove to my beloved grandparents’ town in the country just to drive by their old house.  My grandparents had passed away decades ago, but spending time each summer at their home were the happiest times of my life.  I had always wanted to buy their house to live in the glow of the memories there.  When I arrived in their town, I had a difficult time recognizing the house and property; it had changed drastically in the 45 years since I had last been there!  That was the first profound disappointment because I expected nothing would have changed.  I pulled on the property and got out of my car.

The current owner came out to see me.  I explained that my grandparents had lived there; the new owner had known them.  He invited me in.  I wish I had not walked into the house because it was horrid - everything about it had changed, even where the back door had been.  The flower gardens my grandma tended, the vegetable and fruit gardens my grandpa took care of - all gone. That was the second profound disappointment of the day. The anchor of stability for my early life detached and sank.

I learned that day that memories are better than reality.  A quote from Thomas Wolfe’s novel, You Can’t Go Home Again, resonates with me: “You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood...back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame...back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory” (qtd. in https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/refire-don-t-retire/201810/you-cant-go-home-again).

When I moved back to my hometown so I could be there for my elderly parents, after having been gone for 4 decades, I experienced the same thing as when I visited my grandparents’ house.  It isn’t the same place as the one I left, but I naively assumed it would be.  Nope!  Everything eventually changes - like it or not.  I pride myself on embracing change, pivoting, shifting.  Still, my anchors changed and that change wasn’t something I was prepared for.

Time stands still only in our memories. Where, in your life, does time stand still? How do you respond when changes supersede your memories? If your grandmother is still alive, has her house remained the same as when you were a child? Please share your stories, thoughts, insights, and suggestions by either commenting below this post if you are reading this on social media, or, if you are reading this through your email subscription, please share, by emailing me, at reimaginelife22@gmail.com.

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