67 Church Street

Just the sight of the white house with green shutters fills me with happiness.  As soon as it is in view, my smile widens and I immediately feel at home.  I approach the back door by walking along the slate sidewalk and anticipate the experiences I will have during this stay.

Throughout our lifetime, this house has been our safe haven.  As young children, we stayed here before heading off to our next military assignment with our parents.  We also visited periodically and I can honestly say that we have many, many fond memories from those times.  I've relived several of those times through listening to my siblings recount them, as I was quite young and don't remember the moments like they do.  However, my love for this house is as strong as theirs is.  This visit, however, was a little different than the rest.  It marks the end of a life that meant so much to me and my family. My sisters and I made a trip to Pennsylvania this past week to attend the funeral of our beloved Aunt BJ.

When we entered the house this time, the silence was deafening.  No welcome from BJ. The warmth seemed to be missing already.  Yet seeing the furniture and quaintly placed knick knacks still brought me joy.  When I walked down the hallway into the foyer, I felt saddened as I noticed the new front door.  No longer a dutch door, it was the first big change I noticed.  I turned towards my favorite spot in this house-the staircase and library at the top of the steps. I began to ascend them.  My heart skipped a beat and I gasped, my chest filling with sorrow.  I wept.   

After a nice hug from my sister, I was ready to go upstairs.  The four of us girls walked through all the bedrooms, opening drawers and peeking into closets looking for the treasures we knew were hidden away.  The pictures, dress up clothes, and memorabilia gave us what we were looking for...familiarity.  Change is so hard.  Especially when the change comes directly from the death of a loved one.  Wallpaper gone, paint in its place, and new curtains in the dining room caught us by surprise.  Moreso than that change was the new house number out front.  Due to some new construction and zoning, the house is no longer #67.  Of course, to us it always will be....

                                                                

Thankfully, even though our Aunt wasn't physically with us, we still felt her presence as we settled in for the night.  We shared some stories, chose our bedrooms and went to sleep.  The next day was her funeral, and we commented on what a peaceful, sound nights sleep we all had.  I was so thankful for that.  The sevice was heartwarming and it was wonderful to hear all about what a faithful servant of the Lord BJ was.  I found it a tribute to God's love for us that my sisters and I were seated in pew number 67.  That is all God! :)

After the fellowship and meal at the church we all gathered at BJ's house to visit and reminisce. It was a time of happiness and fond memories shared.  Of course, the stilts my granddad made by hand were pulled out of the shed for some family fun! It's a tradition you know.

                                                                                   

As I reflect on this trip, I am grateful for so many things.  My salvation most importantly, as well as the love of family.  I have often heard it said that it is a shame when families do not gather together unless it is due to a tragedy.  Maybe so, however I just thank God for the opportunity to rekindle relationships and let those close to us know how much they mean to us.  No matter the miles between us, family is family and I love mine dearly.  Thank you, Aunt BJ and the whole Davies / Calby clan for the memories and the love shared in the past and just recently.  I love you all!

1 Peter 5:10-11  But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you.  To Him be the glory and the dominion forever and ever. Amen.