I’ve moved around quite a bit. I am married to a US Army soldier and we have moved 9 times in 16 years. As a child we moved a bit more than I would have liked, though after 3rd grade we stayed in one place. Through all of my 38 years, one place has remained the same - my grandparents’ house.

It’s not a large home or a fancy one, but it’s home. Here is where we started our 10 day California vacation.

When I was around 3 years old I fell off those steps and scraped my nose on the brick wall.

Our first morning dawned and we were still on East Coast time. We attended mass at the church two blocks from my grandparents’. My parents were married at this church, I was baptized there, as was Boo, and I attended the attached school with most of my cousins. I told this all to my children who were suitably unimpressed.

Later in the day we had a gathering of my extended family. Aunts and cousins and one uncle came to spend the afternoon with us. I have the extreme good fortune to have 4 generations of family all living in one city, relatives from each of my grandparents’ sides of the family. They all know each other, too. I have cousins who are related to me, but not to each other. It confuses others who want to know how we are all related. Eyes glaze over when we say that Holly’s mother is my grandmother’s sister, but Chris’s mom is my grandfather’s sister. Holly and Chris went to school together with Mary, who is my aunt, but Holly and Chris aren’t related. But they are both my cousins. Oh never mind. We know who we are.

It’s funny to be sitting there chatting with grown-up cousins who I used to play hide and seek with just a few years ago (or so it seems). Now our children are the ones running around the yard, climbing the trees and putting together a talent show, much to the delight of their grandmas and great-aunts.

Boo and Pumpkin Girl with two of their cousins (who are not related to each other!) during their talent show.

I cannot begin to describe how wonderful it was to sit in the backyard of a house that I have known all my life. The cool ocean breezes kept the day almost chilly - what a relief from the humidity of DC! My family surrounded me, the very same people who knew my mother as a little girl, attended my wedding, celebrated each of my babies and held me upright during Rebecca’s funeral. There was a history there, my history, my children’s history.

There is nothing like the loving embrace of a family member who shows up just because someone says, “Lorri and her family will be here, please come.” Some moments stay with you forever - like this one particularly afternoon at my grandparents’ house.

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