“Grandma, we’re going on a bike ride.” The porch door slams as Dash, the cat my husband rescued five years ago, scurries into hiding.
From the kitchen the aroma of biscuits, cooked apples, and sausage gravy filled the air. My mom swiftly beats the egg yolks. As I set the table, I comment, “Mom, I love having breakfast for dinner. How many plates should I set?”
“Grandpa, five grandkids, you, Chris, and I make nine.”
Out on the porch the two most important men in my life are discussing gardening. A mound of fresh picked cucumbers and tomatoes separate my husband and father. My dad, a farm raised country boy, is explaining to my husband, a Virginia Beach ex-surfer city boy, the importance of planting a garden according the phases of the moon and the signs in the Farmer’s Almanac.
I step outside and remind them, “Dinner’s almost ready. The next time you see the kids ride by, flag them down to eat.”
This summer our family moved into my childhood home. By the grace of God, our home was under contract with in a few short weeks of relisting. Now we are searching for a new place to call home. Rather than spending money renting a place, my parents graciously offered for our family to move in with them.
My husband, two children, and two Jack Russell terriers moved into my childhood home with my parents, their oldest granddaughter and a cat. Our family of four now shares a space half the size with three other adults and three animals.
My sister and her other two children live a few streets over. My parent’s home is a revolving door of barking dogs, spilled milk, crumbs all over the place, and giggling grandkids. Mama Mia! My parents love every minute of it.
“A good man leaves an inheritance [of moral stability and goodness] to his children’s children.” (Proverbs 13:22, AMPC)
We can build up a rich inheritance to our grandchildren by spending time together and being active in one another’s life. Grandma and Grandpa have taught our children to whittle, plant beans, stake tomatoes, and make sausage gravy. Meanwhile, the younger generation taught the grandparents how to make slime and offer frequent computer lessons.
I miss having my space. I miss my red chair, my favorite place to drink coffee and talk to the Lord. I miss my solitude. But I am thankful for God’s provision in this season of chaos and I am thankful for my parents’ continued goodness to our family.
