Crossing Rosemead!

On holiday weekends such as this people all over the country head home to celebrate with family. I wrote the following on the way to visit my family in February:

When your Grandparents live in the sunshine state the chorus in the old song "Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother's house we go.." just doesn't seem to work. But you always knew you were getting close to Grandpa and Grandma's house when Aunt Laurel dialed my Grandparents number on the car phone and exclaimed, "Crossing Rosemead!"

I always looked forward to our annual visits to my Grandparents house. I loved seeing the home my father grew up in. My Aunt Laurel’s bedroom was just the way she left it. And when I had a child of my own, I was excited to take him to the little white house on Youngdale St. Over the years Awsumb played baseball in the front yard, went in and out the squeaky back door… Gpa measured his height on the old kitchen door, and took Awsumb on wagon rides to meet the neighbors. Awsumb shared lunch with Grandpa at the same kitchen table I remember eating breakfast at when we visited his home as a kid. (This table now lives in my family room.) I am so thankful he had the chance to make some memories at my Grandparents home.

Even after they passed we still occasionally drive up to the old neighborhood together and say hello to the neighbors that are still there. Then we take flowers over to the cemetery. And of course have dinner at The North Woods Inn.

My parents divorced when I was just a newlywed. My childhood family no longer exists. My father had since remarried and I knew it was meant to be the instant I saw them together. From the time Dad and Colleen were married they were just as they had always been together. We visit them often and Awsumb looks forward to snuggling with his Grandma Awsumb and going on adventures with my father. But the fact remains that my childhood home no longer exists.

Going home for me is visiting my Aunt Laurel and Uncle C.K. who taught me everything I know about family, commitment, loyalty and love. I love this photo of the two of us at Laurel’s wedding. I was just three years old and sometimes when I glance at this picture I feel as if I am clinging to her as if my life depends on it.

Children of divorced parents quickly learn that many of the things you thought you could depend on can vanish in an instant. I am so lucky to have always been able to depend on my Aunt.  Laurel graciously accepted a role that became much more than a distant Auntie and has always been there for me. She is my greatest supporter and I can’t imagine my life without her.

Tonight I am packing up to visit my Aunt Laurel and Uncle C.K. and as we fly over Rosemead and onto Costa Mesa, I know we’re going home!

Now that my Grandparents have passed on the tradition lives on. When Kenneth or I call on our way home we always say, “Crossing Rosemead!” Recently, we realized we needed clarify exactly what street we were referring to because there certainly isn’t a Rosemead Blvd. near our house! Either way, it simply means, “I’m coming home!”