Feels like Home?

At the end of April, Grams came to visit again. She was here for the highly anticipated road trip to Folkston. Grams is really into genealogy and as soon as LO was born, she wanted to head to Papa's for a four generation picture. Given the swine flu epidemic and LO's need for immunizations over his first six months, I managed to convince her of the need to wait until spring. Well spring arrived and it was road trip time!

Now, I'm a fan of modern transportation. I think a ride on any plane, train or (most) automobile sounds like fun. It used to be even more fun as kid when I lacked any responsibility for the actual details of traveling and before 9/11 turned travel into a dirge. Nevertheless I'm pretty sure modern transportation is at least partly responsible for the death of having a hometown. Sure, there are some people who have lived one place their whole lives and have their whole family as neighbors, but not many that I know. I make this point because, in a lot of ways, going to Papa's house is the closest thing I have to going home. I never really thought of it that way until this trip. Somewhere between the time we arrived at dusk on Friday and the wee hours of the morning when I couldn't sleep on Saturday, the wonder of the history that Papa's house has seen struck me. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, or maybe it's because I'm a mom now, but this wide spot in the road finally garnered my respect on this trip. It was amazing to be in the house where my Grannie had been married to Papa and my mom, aunts and uncles had all been babies. The same place where my Grannie Pearl and Papa had lived an amazing marriage of 38 years. The same place where I had been as a baby and nearly every year as a child. Now the place where LO and I have been.

Papa's house seems to be the place that time has left untouched. Of course time has left her mark on the people who come and go and those who have moved on, but the house itself and the rituals therein haven't changed in the 34 years I've known them. I'd bet they haven't changed much in over 50. That's one of the neatest things about being there. Papa's house is a place where the men are treated like men and are expected to act that way. While DH and I have a pretty egalitarian marriage at our home, at Papa's you'd think we'd stepped into the old South. Suddenly everyone remembers their manners, suddenly DH gets tasked to do the heavy lifting, and suddenly the women are all making plates to serve their men. It's fun and a refreshing change of pace while we're there. The beauty of having all that history wrapped up into one humble space and one patriarch is enough to make me want that for my own family. Who knows if we can ever recreate that hometown history and hometown feel. Certainly our society has lost a lot of the respect and customs that make Papa's house so special. I hope to instill the most important of these in LO. I hope he'll have the best of both worlds. Easy travels and a real hometown with a little history.

Having said that, this was LO's overnight trip away from home. In general he did well. We timed our departure to coincide with his nap time in hopes that he would sleep for most of the drive. Nice plan. Didn't work. He slept about 20 min, cried about an hour, slept for another 30 min. The way home was similar. We are used to letting him cry things out at home, but a crying LO in the car on a two lane road in the middle of nowhere. Well, I don't have to tell you that wasn't fun. Other than the car ride, he adapted pretty well. He slept better than expected in his pack and play, having only one nap each day that was too short. He took to new people very well and seemed to especially like Papa and (great) Aunt Niecy. Grannie Pearl was a wiz of a hostess as always, so it was a treat to have extra hands to entertain LO and all her home cooking. We have a bit of video and lots of pictures to commemorate our stay, but I hope we'll make it back again soon. Thanks to everyone who helped make this first trip away from our home such a success.