Old Home

Pictured on your left is the house my grandfather lives in, a house that is an old home in many ways. He lived in the same old house with my recently deceased grandmother since he came back from World War II, and the house predates his occupancy by at least two decades.

Yet the old home is also a family touchstone, as we must have gone there for something like 20 straight Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners before the torch began to be picked up by my mother (and even later by the grandchildren). We never bothered with Christmas party invitations because the door was always open and heck - where else would you even go on the holidays?

Now my grandfather lives alone, and we get up to see him once a week. The old home seems older these days, but it has been a center of my life as long as I can remember.

Thank God for old homes.


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