1. My grandparents had a huge weeping willow tree in their back yard. Unfortunately, once I reached adulthood, the roots of the weeping willow had reached the septic tank and had to be taken down. Their yard looks so empty without the tree there. This tree was the setting for many back yard antics, most of which I would like to take the credit for discovering (although I don't know if that part of the memory is entirely accurate). I learned that you can swing like Tarzan on the branches. I learned that approximately 50 Easter eggs can be hidden in the nooks & crannies of the huge limbs. I learned that my Uncle Kevin, even as an adult, was a monkey who could climb to heights unknown in this huge tree. And I learned that when losing a wrestling match with your brother and/or your male cousins, you can gain a serious upper hand by stripping the branches of a weeping willow and using it as a whip--extremely effective. :) It's funny how something like a tree can represent so much to you, but I really, really miss this tree. Before it was taken down, when I would visit Grandma's house as an adult, I loved to walk under the tree. It was almost like I could hear the five of us as kids, laughing and running and playing among the branches.
2. The "double dog dare" will almost ALWAYS end up with someone in trouble. I believe the first time, it was when my cousin Dusty (who was probably 7 or 8 at the time) was double-dog dared to jump off of my Grandma's balcony. He did, and for whatever reason it caused a huge commotion in the family. He survived the jump with no broken bones, but was even more lucky to have survived the aftermath of my irate adult family members. My brother survived his double dog dare to leap out of the paddle boat that he was riding in with my cousins Chris & Dusty. He was also probably around 7 at the time. Grandma & Grandpa had taken all six of the grandkids camping (I have no idea what they were thinking). The boys were in one boat and the girls were in another, in the middle of the lake. The boys double dog dared my brother, who was going through a severe chubby phase at the time, to jump into the lake. He did. Panic ensued. The three girls were "racing" to the scene in our little paddle boat (we didn't quite make it), while the two boys were trying to pull my brother's chubby butt (unsuccessfully) back into the boat, while my Grandparents stood on the lake shore in a total panic. Keep in mind, my brother was wearing a life jacket, and could swim fairly well. The lifeguards had to come out in their boat and heave my brother into their boat to take him to shore. Again, he survived both the dare and the aftermath.
3. Playing "runaways" is far better than playing "house" or "school." For whatever reason, whenever we played pretend as kids, we didn't play the normal roles. Instead, we played "runaways." It was our favorite pretend game. And we had very important roles in our runaway band of misfits. Chris & I (who are four months apart in age) were always the "couple," and we were always in charge of the group. Dusty was the "hunter." Justin & Dennyl were always the pretend youngest of the group (which is ironic, since Dennyl is the oldest of the five of us). (It should be prefaced that my oldest cousin Holly was usually too mature to play in our little games.) We would build a huge fort in my Grandma's basement that was our tent. (For other play games, the basement could also be transformed into a wrestling ring or just someplace where havoc could generally be wreaked.) I honestly believe that in some way, this game represented us and our personalities and our bond in life. Particularly with my brother, Dennyl, Chris, and I. We've always known that as long as we had each other, we're fine. When bad things have happened in life, I look for them. I know that they understand what I'm going through, and I think they feel the same about my brother and I, for the most part. The four of us have an indescribable bond, formed mostly of happiness and really fantastic memories and laughes, but forged and solidified by the turmoil and hurt that we've experienced together side by side.
4. My favorite: the Great Grape War. When we would get together at Grandma's house for the holidays, it was not unusual for there to be 25 or more people in the house for the weekend....spending the night.....in a three bedroom house..... We had to get "creative" about sleeping arrangements. On this particular weekend, the five of us grandkids (the oldest again somewhere else, I think....I don't remember Holly participating in our craziness, but she may have...) were camped out on the living room/dining room floor. The living room/dining room was one big room that was basically separated by one of the living room couches. The three boys were in the living room floor and Dennyl & I were on the dining room floor on the other side of the couch. As usual when this many kids are sleeping in a room together, we did not just "go to sleep." It started with the usual....the guys would fart or moon us. We would giggle incessantly until some adult inevitable shouted down the hall for us to be quiet and go to sleep. But, somehow, on this particular night, things got a little out of hand. My grandma had little plastic grape vines on all of her end tables and china hutches. She probably had about twelve or so different sets of decorative plastic grape vines, in varying shades of purple and green. They had been part of her decorum for as long as I can remember. Somehow, someone discovered that each individual grape could be pulled from the vine, and became a fantastic item to throw at an opposing cousin. Needless to say, someone discovered it, we all followed in suit, and the Great Grape Ware ensued. I'm not really sure how it ended, except that we all fell asleep, fat on laughing fits and exhausted with goofiness. You can imagine the scene, however, the next morning when the adults began to arise and come out to the room where the five of us beautiful children were still slumbering, surrounded by hundreds of green and purple plastic grapes....everywhere. Needless to say, I think this is the angriest I have ever seen my Grandma. We spent the entire morning putting each individual grape back onto the vines. In the end, some grapes were never found, and her previously beautiful purple and green vines were now a combination of colors, some with bare parts of plastic stems. I'm not sure who won the Great Grape War, but I'm pretty convinced that it wasn't any of the kids who participated. And now (25 years later), Grandma only has about two or three grape vines that she uses as decoration. But every time I am "home" to visit, I have to just feel them and remember that night. I laugh every single time. It is one of my favorite memories ever.
5. While there are a lot of things in my Grandma's house that arouse great memories, the cookie jar is my favorite. As kids, we would always gather around the kitchen table with the various cookie selection from the jar and watch the little 12" black and white TV on the counter when we were bored. We always knew where to go for snacks. It was at Grandma's house that I developed my love of Dr. Pepper. It was Grandpa's very soda when he could still drink it, and so it was always in stock. I started drinking it, I think, to be like him. To this day, I cannot go 24 hours without a Dr. Pepper. It will always make me think of him. It was also out of the cookie jar that I developed my passion for Nutter Butter wafers--not the peanut shaped cookies--the wafers. Grandma always had them, and they were always in stock in the cookie jar. I could eat a whole sheet of wafers completely by myself in one sitting (and still can). It was in the cookie jar that I discovered the Tasty Kakes that were covered in a layer of mold. Gross story, but funny memory. It is for this reason that I've asked Grandma for the cookie jar when, God forbid, something happens to them. I know this is kinda morbid, but I have also witnessed first hand the chaos that comes with grandparents passing and everyone wants something in the house. While there are a lot of things in my Grandma's house that I would love to have, just for the sake of preserving a memory, the cookie jar is, for me, the most important one. And I realize that I have a HUGE family to share with, who all have their own personal wants and associated memories. I just want the cookie jar. There's nothing special about it. It's just a glass jar with a tin lid. But I open it and am flooded with memories of that kitchen and my Grandma and my cousins. I want the cookie jar so that, for the rest of my life, I can open it and remember.
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