Growing up we looked forward to going down to the Carolinas to visit our grandmothers. Childhood memories recall lots of activities and people in both homes. It was the pot belly stove and the sacredness of the “don’t go in there” living room with the piano in North Carolina — biscuits baking in the wood burning stove and long walks to pick peaches in South Carolina.
I remember the huge porch in South Carolina where Grandma Dawkins lived and the large French doors separating Grandma Hart’s living and dining rooms in North Carolina with the linoleum floors where I was often told “Boy, pick up your feet before you scratch my floor”. With all the people visiting, the relatives who resided in the houses, no bathroom in one, and only one bathroom in the other, I have no idea how we managed. We did though.
Not too many years ago and some 30 plus years later I visited what remains of both homes and was amazed at how small they actually were. No where near as big or as nice as the houses that I remember as a child. I know that houses can deteriorate over the years but do they shrink?
What do you remember about your Grandma’s house?
My father’s family lived in the house above at one time. It housed my grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins, and visitors. Train tracks ran in front of the house and we always knew when the train was coming through. I often wondered where it was headed and what it would be like to jump on board and go for a ride.
My mother’s parents had 12 children and lived in this house for many years. There were big rockers on the porch and rails all around with flower gardens in the front and on the sides. One summer a brand school was built across the street. That school also shrank and now is gone.