A moment in time

When I was a child, I can remember visiting my great grandparents on my mothers' mothers' side. Great Grandpa Charles was a somber and precise dictator. My Great Grandmother Lily floated in his wake - ephemeral and insoluble - as if she waited for his command to appear.

As such, they were far from the approachable and lovable people you remember from other people's stories - or the Waltons.

But Charles and Lily and their home held multiple fascinations for me. One was that children were to be seen and not heard - and preferably not seen. My response to this was, a) to occupy, fully clothed, the concrete in-ground birdbath upon arrival, and b) to bounce Charles' golf balls in unsupervised rooms where I might end up breaking a leaded glass pane(s) of Arts & Crafts/Mission style origin.

All resulting in an ass beating of epic proportions.

But the thing that fascinated me most was being alone in that turn-of-the-century Ohio Craftsman home - all dark oak, built-ins and leaded glass window panes - was the silence. When Mom was in the kitchen with Grandma Lily, I might be unattended on the sun porch, bouncing a harmless rubber ball. Or I might find myself eating a sandwich (God forbid - Charles must be golfing) seated on the prickly horse hair sofa in the living room.

And what I remember is the peace. The tick and tock of the grandfather clock in their house, the rare motes of dust floating in the sunshine through through the windows, and the warm, mellow smell of bees wax and furniture polish. To me - this was where time ended and heaven began.

In years since, I've striven to find this - to create it. But it never seemed quite genuine.

But today, as I was preparing for a brunch with our wonderful friends, I took a moment to look at our home through new eyes and I realized, the Eastlake clock on the sideboard, the Grandmother clock ticking away in the hallway, and the silence - (Brian was out getting propane for the grill) - made me feel for one moment like I was a kid again. Suspending time - and simply sitting in the sun and loving and honoring my family and those who came before me....

...and wishing I could travel back in time to tell them just what they meant to me.