If walls could talk...

Last week was the memorial service for my grandmother. After the services, where we all cryed and laughed ourselves almost dry, we drove by the farm where she grew up. We've all heard many stories of growing up on this beautiful farm on Kaskaskia Island, and had to go there and see it again. Here are my grandparents, Albert and Ruth, on their wedding day, May 20th, 1933. She was 25 years old, and they're standing in front of the old farmhouse!
And 77 years later, after at least one flood that reached to the 2nd floor, here it stands, still pretty.

2 generations later, here are her grandkids, minus David.

It would've been fun to take a tour, although there were 25 of us present - that might've been a bit much to ask of the current owner. That old house, presumably built sometime in the 1800's has seen a lot happen during its lifetime, just like Grandma. And I guess we felt like being there, we were a bit closer to her, although now its time to look ahead to the future when we will see her again.

One day he's coming, Oh glorious day, oh glorious day.