Friday, August 12, 2011
The house is located mere minutes away from Temple Square in Salt Lake City, Utah. Minutes away from the fantastical world I grew up in. With adventures like the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saint Visitor Center, the Conference Center, the Beehive House, the Family History Center, Pioneer statues, and beautiful abundant gardens. Horse-drawn carriages, architectural marvels, and even church Prophets can be seen here. Yes this is where I grew up. Saw it, breathed it, lived it. My uncles would take me for walks here and let me climb up on the garden walls. My aunt Kimberly would take me to the temple gates where I requested to see the "pretty ladies" aka - new brides coming out of the temple after getting married. I would gaze at all the "pretty ladies" who seemed to be endless in supply and wearing their beautiful wedding gowns. Then of course there's Grandma Frances who tirelessly and patiently would walk me through the visitors center so I could "listen to the phones". There were several tiny models of the church's history arranged inside small cove rooms that below the glass viewing window had phones where you could pick up and hear all about the stories and history of the church. Not to mention the beautiful White statue of Christ in the huge round shaped room that is painted with a dark night sky full of stars and illustrations of how you might imagine the heavens appeared after creation. Occasionally I'd even go with her to General conference at the tabernacle, where I sat in the noisy kiddy-room and gazed up at the Prophets as they spoke. Such a magical place temple square is.
Grandma's house was always filled with love. Even in the worst most debilitating moments of arguing and yelling I remember thinking how much my family must love each other because they took the time to not only make their own opinions unmistakably clear, but also to listen as others rebuked them. It's strange to admit but my heart is filled with joy, love & fondness when I think of those awful yelling matches. Perhaps it was because I was always immune to the disputes. Everyone took much more care not to harshly disagree when I stated my own opinions. Like why it really was okay for me to leave the house with the white fluffy Alaskan dog "Muppy" because I really needed candy from the store down the street and really thought it would be better to not go alone...
Memories of walks to temple square, beautiful historic neighborhood architecture, walls of photographs, and those sweet red raspberries are just a tiny glimpse into the part of my heart full of love I have for Grandma's house. As we made arrangements for Grandma Frances to move into an assisted living center (hopefully temporarily) I am reminded of how much love I have for that house and for the family it has held for so many years before and during my own existence. It's funny how your heart can become so attached to a building. Nevertheless I will love and treasure that house and all the people associated with it forever.