|My grandparents house for the past 50 years. Mom coming up the driveway.|
None of us had been there in years, since there has been a big rift within the family over decades of hurt, that eventually resulted in a long estrangement.
My mother called everyone last week and ordered us to come. Grandpa is in his late 80's and no one lasts for ever.
The place is an acre right smack in the middle of a very affluent suburb.
My grandparents are not fancy people and the happened to purchase this house and land at the right time, right price, and went right on living their country way, despite the posh environment all around them. They ran the only emergency foster home in Clackamas county for years, and were not always popular with the neighbors. From the late 1950's into the mid 1980's they cared for over 500 children in this tiny farm house. The house itself is dinky and not much to look at, but my grandfather keeps it clean and neat and his yard is amazing.
|Lilly pads! When I was a child my grandmother made my grandfather keep the pond covered, she was terrified of someone drowning.|
|The front. When grandma was alive there was a giant snowball bush, that was a big pain in the ass to mow around, when she died the bush went with her to the great beyond.|
|Grandpa with the youngest great grandchild|
|Maxwell, ready to walk down to the lake.|