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I love My husband’s grandparents. I met Ryan when I was 18. That same year my grandma died, and my grandfather followed his bride 5 years later. Ryan’s grandparents have treated me like I’m their own granddaughter.

His family is very close. Each Fourth of July the entire extended family camps together. Over Christmas, we rent a lodge so that all 25-30 people can be together for a few days. Grandma quilts and chats away with everyone while grandpa sits in the chair out of the way and just looks at his family and smiles.

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Through the years, we have often stayed overnight at their home. First as newly married kids, then a young couple with a baby and dog, then little family with two children minus the dog, and now an older family with three kids in tow. There seems to be endless amounts of room no matter how many people are there, and my children have always been welcomed and loved.

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They peek out the window of the mudroom at the sun rising over the work shed

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and watch the birds through the kitchen window.

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There’s warnings to stay away from the wood stove because it’s hot.

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They discover treasures like the hand carved walking sticks and the thimble collection.  They cook with great grandma and grandma.

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They learn stories of when great grandpa was a marble champion at 13 and got to go in a plane all the way to Detroit. Great grandpa uses his electric razor on them.

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and teaches them how to use a shoe horn.

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The ladies just sit around the kitchen table and talk and talk while great grandma gives the children their first sips of coffee. One year my sister-in-law cut greenery from their woods and taught us how to make an evergreen garland while the men were hunting.  Another year the kids watched with interest as great grandpa skinned the deer he shot.  They feed the chickens and visit Uncle Chris and Aunt Nancy next door. So many memories.

I think the best thing is that there is so much comfort there. Everything looks the same and smells the same. You always know which cupboard the peanut butter will be in. You know grandma will have soup or some yummy homemade cookies. I feel like life in today’s culture is constantly changing. Even in my home, I change the decor for the seasons and constantly rearrange furniture. But when we go to grandma and grandpa’s house, we always know what we’re going to get. You can close your eyes and see it all in your head. Except for a very slight remodel of the kitchen, it looks exactly the same as it did when I was a young, wildly in love 18 year old. I find comfort in that.

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