Josh sees a beautiful house. The House is the most beautiful house he has ever known. He does his best to care for the surrounding grounds. He wants them to match the house in beauty. If there is anything which needs to be repaired or painted he offered to do it but in all the time he’s known the house it has not needed anything major.
That month, Teddy, Greta and I spent more time outside. Exploring and investigating the out buildings, the hedges, the gardens and remaining orchard, reveling in the last of the years warmth. We found a chicken coop, which looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. We found what looked like an herb garden and a glass greenhouse. Several panes were broken. I began to think about the spring and how much fun it would be to plant a little garden with the children. To grow some herbs again and maybe even get a few chickens. I smiled at myself. There are a lot of things I could do. I have my whole future ahead of me. I looked at the kids, they have their whole futures ahead of them. What a great place for them to grow up. I thought briefly about the meager plans I had had for them just a few months ago compared to the possibilities ahead of us today. Gratitude filled my being. I had an impulsive desire to bless my Grandma and thank her by doing something special for her. From around the other side of the barn I heard the excited cries of the children calling me. I went to see what new treasure they had found. There was a wall made of large stones about three feet tall. Greta had managed to climb to the top and was sitting up there looking around. Teddy was attempting to climb it but was having difficulty. I was concerned about safety of course and ran to Greta, to save her from a possible tumble and pick Teddy up and set him up beside her. We looked over the wall and saw that it was a large enclosed rectangle filled with tall weeds and small brush. The wall had crumbled in several places where vines had pulled it apart. I took the kids off the wall and we began to walk around it. I was looking for an opening. I wondered why I hadn’t seen this before. There were still a lot of places to discover. Today we had already found several new and interesting places on the property. We came to a place where the stones had fallen down and both the kids scrambled across and stood triumphantly inside the wall.
“Can we have a picnic?” Greta asked immediately. I smiled, she is so much like me. It does look like a great place for a picnic. Like archaeologists taking a break for lunch.
“Should we go and get one now?” I asked. “It’s a good time for a snack.” Both kids agreed and took off for the house.
Back in the kitchen I realized that it was already time for lunch. We put together a few sandwiches and cut celery and an apple each. I cut the apples in wedges for the kids. We found a basket in the pantry and some linens in the closet. The basket had swinging lids. Teddy stood on a chair opening and closing the lids as I placed the things in the basket. I filled a jar with milk and packed a couple of cups. I grabbed a blanket from the couch to spread on the ground.
“I’m ready,” announced Greta. She came into the kitchen with a hat on. One of Grandma’s hats I believe. Teddy wanted a hat as well. Greta had discovered a box of fabulous hat’s in the closet. We all donned one turning and smiling at our reflections in the long mirror. They were all much too big for Teddy but he was adorable. He had chosen a straw, small brimmed hat embellished with fall flowers and a checked sash. I tied it under his chin.
“We better get started,” I announced. “We don’t want the milk to spoil.”
So we headed out with our hats and our basket. I felt light and free. Of all the things I had ever dreamed of doing, this one had never entered the line up, but it was by far the best one yet. I wondered how many more beautiful experiences like this one I would have with my children. My life was joyful right now. The remembrance of Georgia’s visit becoming dim and the rocky stressful life with Stan growing further and further away in my mind as I trekked through the weeds to the little stone wall beyond which our inaugural picnic would take place. A plan began to brew in my mind. A plan for Grandma. A plan for her to come back to the house. To visit at first and then perhaps to stay. In my mind, I worked out the sketches of the plan while I sat on the blanket in the weeds eating a light lunch with the kids running around. At first they sat nicely on the blanket. It was a mere formality however, and it didn’t last long. I watched them play while I thought about what I would need to do to get the place ready for Grandma. I decided not to say anything to her yet.
Greta and Teddy were yelling for me. They had found something in the weeds. I went to investigate. It looked like a large rock. We pulled the weeds away. Some of the weeds were almost as tall as me. As I pulled the weeds out I began to realize that this was not a rock but a headstone. The front and back, polished. I scraped weeds away from the face of the stone. On my knees in front of it I read the words; Loving father and son. Henry Theodore Platte. March 21st, 1966 - September 15th, 1998.
By Elizabeth Williams.
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