Okay, sometimes things turn out really well. This morning was one of them. But let me set this up:

My mother, Sarah (nicknamed Toots) had a sister – Lucile – some 18 years older than she. Stanley was the brother they shared who was in high school when Mother was born. It was Lucile, by the way, who gave Mother her nickname. Many times I heard the story of how she came in the house and Mother was swaddled and lying in the Morris chair – October 11, 1926.

Lucile married in 1928 but didn’t have a child until 1932 when Freddie – the prettiest baby in LaGrange County –  was born. Then in 1935, Ruby was born. They lived in a little house across the road from Grandma and mother and did not have as many trees, so on hot afternoons, Lucile would bring Freddie and Ruby over for their naps.

Anyway, they went through the Depression together – and during the War, Ruby inherited Mother’s old bike because they weren’t making any then.

That was a long time ago and my mother knew Ruby was coming to a nearby town last evening; Ruby had told her she wanted to come out and sit on the back porch. I talked with Mother this morning and she said she hadn’t heard a word. We hung up and just a couple of minutes later, Ruby came in through the back door.

I think that is great – 2008 or 1942 – Ruby came into her grandma’s house as if there were no such thing as time. The scent of the woodsmoke in the walls, a lot of the same wooden tables, a lot of the same old skillets and silverware. Grandma’s things, her mother’s things, Mother’s things, our things, family.

I don’t know if I believe in Heaven or not, but today I sure hope it is so. It would have so pleased Grandma and my Aunt Lucile to hear that screen door of home opening this morning.