In Remembrance; Hickman Home

Driving down the tree-lined street, I was reminded of many childhood trips for family holiday celebrations, excitedly anticipating the treats in store from my grandparents.  This is Second Street in Marietta, Ohio - one of the first settlements along the Ohio River and where my mother grew up. 

With nice wide sidewalks (perfect for riding bicycles and pulling wagons), big trees with lots of squirrels, and gorgeous turn of the century homes, I have great memories of this place.

  This is the home where my grandparents lived:

I can still see my grandmother sitting on the front porch, drinking her tea.  I can still feel the pride my grandfather took in his garden; his tulips and hydrangeas.

Interior decor has always been an interest to me and I'll fully admit, I've spent many nights dreaming of how I'd change this old home to make it the beauty it could be, even as a child.  But this weekend, as I walked through the rooms where we gathered to celebrate my grandfather's life, I was so grateful for the things that were the same as my childhood memories.

The kitchen was renovated in the 1960's and still reflects the state of the art changes that were made for that era -- dropped ceilings with flourescent lighting and the best amenities of the time.
My most vivid memories were formed around this table:

Avocado green, gold and burnt orange with the most awesome green vinyl swivel chairs that were well worth the trouble we got into for having spinning contests during dinner.  This is where the kids sat for every holiday meal.
And this is the oven used for many a Thanksgiving turkey, still working today:

The awesome built-in paper towel/aluminum foil/plastic wrap dispenser:

My grandmother's tea cup collection

 And her Fenton glass display

 (there was usually candy in one of the dishes).
























Amazing woodwork up the stairs where we took family photographs

And the balcony we used to "fish" for toys on strings

Amazing fireplaces

 And the electric organ.

Many hymns were played on that thing, backed by a mean Bossa Nova beat.
I'm going to miss hearing Grandpa play it.

I know they're just 'things'.
I realize what I do is not a matter of life or death.
But our homes truly reflect our selves and create memories for those who visit.
What memories will you create in yours?