My grandmother passed away last week and I went out of state to attend her funeral. Honestly, it wasn't very sad. There was a lot of nostalgia. My grandpa died 22 years ago of Lou Gehrig's disease, and she's wanted to join him ever since. I haven't been to her home and the homes of my relatives that live in this little rural farm town since I was probably 10 years old, so it was fun to be flooded with memories of running around the farms as a little girl. I'm once again reminded of my rich family heritage. I forget. I always assume that I'm just a gal born and raised in California and that's pretty much it, but both parents are from 2 separate states, born and raised on farms themselves, and they are the only ones that left. We visited their families at least once a year every year, but once I got to be a teenager, that pretty much ended for some reason. Busy lives I guess.
Anyway, that's where I've been. Now I'm home, but my sister that lives in Denver has been visiting, and my brother Dan the Policeman has been visiting with his wife from California. I love when family visits. We are all in different states throughout the US and I miss them terribly. I am definitely one of those people that can live near family and thrive. I actually have this fantasy that my parents, my brothers and sisters, and I, will buy property in Montana or Oregon and build our own homes on the property, plant our own food, etc. etc. They've always laughed at my idea, probably because I'm the youngest and youngests always get laughed at, but with the current economic crisis, they have mentioned that maybe there is something to my idea.
To me, that's what this life is all about. Family. I miss 'em. And my heart longs to go back to the country. Back to my roots. Even if California is all I've ever really known, my parents did a good job of keeping us connected to our past.