A couple of weeks ago my sister and I went on a quick trip to Tennessee to visit our Uncle. On our way out there we decided to stop by our Papaw's house to see if it was still there since we were going to be driving right by his road. Papaw (my dad's dad) died when I was in middle school so it had been forever since we had been out to his house. It was on old farmhouse back when Papaw lived there so we knew that it might be torn down or dilapidated. We also knew it might be a little emotional to see it, not knowing what condition it would be in, but curiosity won out and we decided to stop by. The house is exactly the same.
It was so great to see that it was not only there but that it was being lived in and well taken care of. Obviously we knew that Papaw didn't live there anymore and that it was just an earthly, temporary home. But Shelley and I both tend to be very sentimental and there's something about having a tangible reminder of a person or memory. We both were instantly overwhelmed with memories of jumping hay bails, exploring the barns, and swinging on the porch.
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