Adventures, Musings

Grandma & Grandpa’s house

At the end of a little cul-de-sac nestled in a little jungle of plants in my grandparents’ home. How this was possible in the middle of the California dessert I do not know. In their tiny plot of land, they managed to plant a garden that resembles a miniature rainforest. There are orange trees, grapefruit trees, persimmon trees, pomegranate trees, among an assortment of different plants and bushes.

My immediate family has moved around quite a bit. We don’t really have a physical place that we have years of physical memories. Grandma’s house is the close thing to that. That place full of nostalgia and memories.

I’ve come back for many reasons. My grandma wants me to be there for her –grandpa has passed on and her children have their own homes not all that close by. I want to take steps toward building my career and perhaps even my dream job. I want to take a test flight before I permanently leave the nest. This place is so familiar, yet unfamiliar. I miss my family, yet reminisce. These are my favorite memories.

Morning and Evening watch

I remember having family worship with Grandpa. We would belt out his favorite songs from the old hymnal –most memorably “Come We That Love the Lord.” In the morning, we would sing “Lord in the Morning” and read the morning watch. This little book was a devotional separated in the dates of the year with verses and readings for each day. At night, we would study the Adult’s Sabbath School lesson. We would learn the memory verse and read the bible readings. Sometimes, Grandpa would read to us out of the big book with the hourglass on it. Perhaps, a story about that one little rotten apple that spoiled all the rest.




Meal times were the most pleasurable yet contentious times when we were little. Grandma and Grandpa ate the strangest food imaginable. We couldn’t understand why anyone would want to eat garlic and onions with cornmeal or raisins with salad. Then, Grandpa would always threaten us with green eggs and ham. Grandma would just shake her head and say,

“You’re Dad doesn’t like them either.”

We absolutely refused to eat greens for breakfast, but we devoured the Johnny cakes and cornmeal porridge. Somehow boiled eggs taste more wonderful at Grandma’s house. Then, there were those yummy little laughing cow cheeses.

Breakfast at Grandma's



We must have learning the art of gatherings from Grandma and Grandpa. There is always a stream of people flowing in and out of their house. Some of them stay for a couple of days while they get a better education. Others just come for dinner. All are welcome.


What are some of your favorite childhood memories?

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