Grandpa’s house….
fond memories some rushing back as I watch two of our four grandsons playing this afternoon.
Pulling up to the house with my Mother, my sister and I would walk up the wide wooden steps flanked by flower beds leading to the porch where a swing hung, but didn’t swing. I remember my Grandpa’s house keys, and thought it funny that they were called skeleton keys. Inside the house there were stacks of newspapers upon the coffee table that had plastic flowers under the glass shelf. And we would anxiously go to the kitchen window to find the Cracker Jack prizes he would save for us.
And while we don’t have a front porch, there is the back porch which we affectionately call Margaritaville. And even better, especially from a child’s perspective, is our garage. Stepping over the threshold onto the green astro turf and through the beaded curtain of a Grateful Dead bear, you may just be transported to an imaginary paradise called Leilani’s Aloha Lounge. I heard the drums and looked up to see my grandson with a pair of drum sticks, as his Tio (my son-his Uncle) instructed him on technique. And my other grandson picked up the ukulele and began to play. Four of our children, two grandchildren and two grand dogs laughing and playing as time stands still in Leilani’s.
Today, I am filled with gratitude as I pick up my Grandpa’s leather key holder, and find that the skeleton key opens not only the door to Grandpa’s front door, but also to Leilani’s. Leilani’s represents so much of myDarlin’Robert Kenui Pope and me, as we carefully and lovingly painted, built and gathered the pieces that make this place magical for our grandchildren, children and friends, Ohana.
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