Sad SC goodbye.

My Grandpa Morgan died about 15 months ago, and since then my mom has been trying to get everything settled to sell their house. My grandparents had a LOT of things for us to sort through-papers, books, slides, pictures...so it's taken a while to do that along with set up a realtor and actually sell the house. The last weekend in September was set as the weekend the sale would be finalized, so I flew down and met my parents there to get the last few things out of the house and say my goodbyes. (yes, ANOTHER weekend out of town)

My grandparents moved into this house right before my grandpa retired from the Marine Corps, in 1966, and lived in it until my Grandma passed away in January 2011. My grandpa continued to live in it for a few months until we moved him up to an assisted living place in Woodbridge, to be by my parents. My mom was 12 when they moved in and so lived in the house until she graduated in 1972 and went to BYU.

I moved several times growing up and while I mostly grew up in Virginia (and call it home), South Carolina is where I am FROM. It is my home. Half of who I am is connected to my ancestors that lived and died there; who fought for the colonies in the American Revolution, for the Confederacy in the Civil War, and for the United States in the many wars of the 20th century. I am proud of my Southern heritage and can trace so many of my traits to my family that lived and continue to live there. This house is where I grew up. I may have never lived there for longer than a month at a time, but it is where I called home throughout my childhood. Through all the places I moved, I always knew this place would be there. I never had to worry about that. It was home. Saying goodbye was really, really hard for me.

I remember being around 3 and my grandma coming in to get me out of the crib when I awoke in the morning.
I remember seeing snow for the first time at age 4. A rarity for the South.
I remember watching "JAG" and "Snowy River" with my grandparents and mom at night.
I remember there always being a meal waiting for us when we arrived late after driving from Virginia.
I remember my mom and I guessing the exact time that we would arrive.
I remember when the Columbia temple was built about 3 miles down the road.
I remember all the Thanksgivings-especially the one when my grandma's folding chair collapsed and she went tumbling to the ground.
I remember all the laughter-the good kind. The kind where your stomach hurts and your crying and feeling so blessed to be related to these people. There was a lot of that.
I remember watching "101 Dalmations" and "Sister Act" over and over.
I remember my grandma snoring in her armchair.
I remember my grandpa on the patio doing church history well into his 90s.
I remember the breakfasts my grandpa would make for us-and how he would always ask our order the night before.

I remember so much more...but I mostly remember love. You don't need a big, fancy house or fancy things to live a good life. You need love, kindness, a sense of humor, and a good attitude. All those things my grandparents had-all those things they had in their home. I am so blessed to have "grown up" there and to be their granddaughter.