When I was younger, I used to always go to my grandparents house. Even though they haven't lived in their old house in a while, I will always remember it. It is a place I loved and have many memories in. My grandparent's house was my home away from home. They were very hardworking, caring, and strict and the way their house felt reflected their personalities.
The house I will forever have embedded in my mind was located in the rural town of Bovina, Texas. This was the house my father and his twelve brothers and sisters grew up in. Every time we went there, I remember driving up and the first thing I saw was a medium sized dead tree with a rickety tire swing hanging from one of the larger tree limbs. The front yard had splotches of somewhat green grass here and there. The walkway to the front porch was kind of old and some of the cement bricks were broken.
As you neared the house you got a better look at the house. The right side of the house, right under all the window sills, there were dying flowers. My grandma loved to tend to her garden but since she was getting up in the years, it became harder and harder for her to do so. The paint on the house was old and weathered and some of the bricks were broken and missing which brought out the real age of the house. There was a weird sound that you heard as you entered the doorway that sounded a little like a car that was about to stall out. I later learned that that was the old leaky swamp cooler on top of the house.
When you got into the house, the smell of Mexican food and cleaning products attacked your nostrils. The living room walls were made of this fake wood-looking stuff. It looked like a typical living room. It had two couches, a chair and a table in the middle of the room. The couches were a dark maroon color and the center table was glass with metal legs that were painted gold. The carpet was brown and the mixture of the walls, the furniture, and the carpet made the room pretty dark and a little chilly. The top of the TV was used as a mantle on which they held all their religious items. They also had a few crosses and a thing like that decorating the 70's looking walls. Although the living room was comfy, my grandpa said it was off limits to everyone.
After all the hugs, hellos, and small talk, everyone would venture into the kitchen where my grandma would have a smorgasbord of all our favorite foods. On the way to the kitchen, you pass through a narrow hall. The walls going through the hall were littered with pictures of my dad and his brothers and sisters, some of the grandchildren, and again more religious items. You may began to look at all of the pictures but since the kitchen is right there, the accentuating smell is luring you away. As you enter the kitchen, the floor no longer has carpet. The floor is now black and white vinyl squares. There is a giant table in the middle of the kitchen that could easily sit 10 people. The walls were white and had little kitchen knick knacks like clocks shaped like cows and things of that nature. The cupboards were old and rickety but, of course, always filled with snacks and candy for when the grandchildren came over. After everyone stuffed their face, everyone would sit around in the kitchen and catch up on things. When we have to leave, the room is filled with tears from both grandparents and my dad. Even though we live like 45 minutes away, they balled as if we were never coming back. I'd take one last swing on the old tree and we'd depart.
Although the house wasn't too big, the house was full of love and I always felt like it was my second home. Now the house is no longer there and my grandparents live 9 hours away, but no matter where they move or live, there house is always filled with the same love and it feels as if they never moved when I'm at their house.
Cortez, Michael, Descriptive Essay of my Grandparents House, 2009