Grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days. . .

This past week my cousin, Annette invited me (thanks Brent for the heads up) to go to my Grandpa Prince's house for one last time. The house would be meeting it's maker in a day or two. So, with camera in hand, Robert and I went together to see this house. I think it was Robert's first time in it. How funny, it was his first, my last. Of course, he had no memories associated with it. But you can bet I do. As luck would have it, my camera's battery was dead. So many of the pictures I will be using are either from my cousin, Brent, or my niece, Talonnie. However, the memories are my own.

The first room we entered, was Grandpa's front porch. In my growing up years, we spent many hours out here. In this blog I will be referring to the house as Grandpa Prince's, as he was the only one living in it when I was young. Grandma Prince died many, many years ago.

Grandpa had a big bed on this porch. One day, when Gary and Elwin were quite young, they were playing on the bed. Grandpa would pull the hair on their neck. I took it as long as I could then I told him to "stop that". The madder I got, the more he laughed and the more he laughed the madder I got...well you get the picture. My Mom was more upset with me than she was with Grandpa. I couldn't understand that. I thought he was really hurting my little brothers. Now, mind you, it was OK if I hurt them, but by golly nobody else better touch them.

Another thing associated with this porch was a recurring dream I had for years. Grandpa was laying in bed on the porch. Waiting for people to come and see him. We would walk by his house day in and day out, but nobody ever stopped. This dream was a night mare to me. I would wake up sick to my stomach thinking I had let Grandpa down. I knew we hadn't because I personally would fix his dinner (that is a story in itself) many a night. I loved Grandpa and I loved his stories. So why did this dream haunt me so. I think it was a wake up call. Because, the day they took Mama to the hospital from my my niece's wedding (that be you Kayla) I told Bob about this dream and told him I wasn't going to have the same dream once Mama was gone. Well, when the day came that Mama was put in the care center, I tried to visit it her about every day. I couldn't always do it, but I tried. And you know something, I have not had that dream of ignoring Grandpa since then--Thanks Grandpa for keeping me on the straight and narrow.

In the summer time, Grandpa would sleep out on the porch, and I would be sleeping outside at my house. You could here his cough from my house. A cough that many of us still have. You can be in church and here a cough and know it came from one of Grandpa's grandchildren.

From the porch we went into the living room. This was the last place where I seen my Grandpa. Even in death he taught me a lesson. The morning he died, I was supposed to be riding to school (I was in college) with my Dad. Early that morning (about 6:30) , my Aunt Camilla called Dad and told him Grandpa wasn't feeling well. I think Aunt Camilla fixed his breakfast and we fixed his dinner. Anyway, Daddy got down there and it wasn't long before he called and told us that my Grandpa had died. Not knowing if I needed to drive myself to school or not I went to down to Grandpa Prince's. Grandpa was laying on the couch with a white wash cloth over his eyes. He looked like he was asleep, and in his later years, when I would go to his house he would be on the couch, and many times, asleep. So it was very natural to me. I remember Dad's brothers and sisters were all sitting around laughing and telling stories. It was as if nothing had happened and this was just another fun get together. The spirit was in the room and I have never felt that kind of peace before. It was then that I truly knew that death wasn't all the bad. Yes we would miss Grandpa Prince, but you don't know how many times prior to this, Grandpa told me how much he missed Grandma Prince. In fact, not too long before this, he had told me that he had had a visit from Grandma who had been gone for many years. I knew then it wouldn't be that much longer that we would have Grandpa with us.

Also, it was in this room that I got my taste of True Story magazine. I would always manage to find Grandpa's latest copy when I would go down to visit him. One time, my cousin Velda and I were sitting on the couch reading it, and we heard the screen door screech. Quick somebody was coming. We hurried and hid the magazine under a pillow--just as Uncle Darce walked through the door. He talked to us for a minute and then started into the kitchen, but before leaving he said "you can get your magazine out now". How did he know that? The look of surprise must have shown on our faces as he started laughing. Oh, "heck" ( those of you that know Uncle Darce know this isn't the exact word he used)"Every granddaughter that comes to this house reads those magazines", he said. So much for being sneaky.

My first time of watching television took place in this room. Grandpa was one of the first in New Harmony to get one. He loved watching Lawrence Welk. So on Saturday night Lowell and I (and sometimes my cousin Mervin) would go down and watch it with him. I still love Lawrence and his music.

From the front room, I went to the bedroom on the left. I spent many nights in this room, as my Grandma Prince had a sister, Aunt Margaret Duffin. Who after Grandma died, would come and visit Grandpa. I was ask to spend the night down there each time she would come from Idaho. I thought they were being nice to me. I loved her, she always brought me a present. It wasn't until later, that I found out they were using young, Deanna Prince, for a chaperon. How funny was that. In my eyes, they were two very old people, why did they need a chaperon. Yesss, I have learned a lot since then--giggle.

The kitchen was next on my list. No, it didn't look anything like I remembered it, but I could still picture the kitchen I grew up in, the kitchen where I would sit at the table and listen to Grandpa's stories about his mission and the farm. The table where I would sit and gag as Grandpa would eat the same old thing every night, and just laugh and laugh at my reaction. His idea of a good dinner (Old timers in New Harmony people called this meal supper. Dinner was what you ate at noon time) was a boiled egg cooked no longer than 3 minutes--with an emphasis on the 3. Have you ever seen an egg cooked that long? Trust me, you don't want to, and further more, you don't want to eat one. Let me rephrase that, you couldn't eat it, you would have to drink it, you might as well, take the egg out of the fridge and crack it open without putting it over the flame. Just writing about it makes me green under the gills. In the summer time, there was a bowl on the table with onions and cucumbers mixed in with vinegar. This was good! This same table was where I learned about Grandpa's musically abilities. He would sit and drum his fingers on the table while waiting for the eggs to get warm.

To the right of the kitchen was a bedroom. I always thought it was fairly good size, but to my amazement it was really small when I walked in it for the last time. This was Grandpa's bedroom. This was the bedroom he was in, when he told me about Grandma coming to see him. The things that one remembers.

On to the upstairs I went--very carefully, I might add. I could now see why the house was being torn down--it was falling down, and was becoming a very unsafe place. My cousin, Velda and I had spent a lot of fun times playing up there. There was still evidence of the light we had painted green one summer when we were up there playing with another cousin Patsy Hall.

I mentioned that I couldn't remember Grandpa's bedroom being so small, well today, I couldn't remember the upstairs being so big--as scary. Dad came from a large family, and in my mind they were all crowded into this small house, but in all honesty the bedrooms were pretty good size. However, I can't help but think they must have been very cold in the winter time. Where the walls were starting to crumble down you could see they had no insulation. I managed to find me a brick to bring home. The house had been pretty well picked over by the time Robert and I got there. As you go up the stairs, there was a little door on the wall. I never knew what it was for, but in talking to my Aunt Bea the day before, she told me that there had been in a fire in that little room--I think it was part of the attic, and they must have had to go in there to put it out.

I didn't spend a lot of time upstairs, but sure took my time coming down the steps. Wow, that was scary. Each step I took I knew was going to be my last. Speaking of steps, I also took a peek at the cellar. I never dared go into it as a child, and I wasn't about to go in it now--treasures or no treasures, cause I just knew that every snake in New Harmony was keeping warm there during the winter months. Annette also told me that some animal had dug a big hole in there. The old bottles I wanted could go the way of the house.

I took one last walk on the ground floor before I told the old house good bye. The house is gone, but my memories are not. You know something, it is hard to compete with memories. As I walked outside I couldn't help but look at the front yard that used to be the home of some of the most beautiful roses in New Harmony, and in the soil, the best fishing worms around. We loved to go to Grandpa's after a good day of watering, turn on the flash light and see the earth worms coming out to be picked to go fishing with us. Grandpa (like my Dad and my husband) loved his gardens, and it showed. In the summer you would see Grandpa Lo, on his knees weeding the flower beds, and then he would use the hose as a cane to get up.

As I climbed in the pick-up and took one last look at the house, I looked down the street towards my Uncle Darce's old house now owned by the O'Connors. One day, Mama and I drove to Grandpa's after being in Cedar. He was walking down the hill towards Uncle Darce's house. He fell just as I was getting out of the car. I ran down the hill to help him up. I will never forget the look on this precious man's face. He was crying and the top of his nose was bleeding where the little pebbles (still on his face) had cut him. He was so upset about getting old. I don't know if the fall hurt him or the thought that he couldn't walk like he used to. How that hurt me. I couldn't stand to see my Grandpa hurting (Ouch--here come the tears). It appeared that as a line from his favorite poem says his "get up and go, had got up and went."

I am so thankful for the memories I have. I learned so much from my Grandpa Prince. He was a man loved by all, and he loved the Lord. His service in the church lives on. each Sunday, when I go to church, I am in awe at all the grandchildren of James and Rhoda who hold callings (many of them more than one) in the New Harmony Ward.