January 27, 2024

“Have you ever seen the Pink House?” Linda and I drove to Houghton today to visit our granddaughter Mattie. We walked around the campus that has changed so much in the fifty years since we were there. Gone is the old phys ed building with the pool so small we called it “the Bathtub,” and Gayodeo Hall; new dorms, two physical education centers, a campus center, and a fine arts building have brought the campus into the 21st century in style. While talking in the lounge of her dorm, she introduced us to two of her friends, Abby and Gabby (Really!), so we invited them to join us for dinner at a place of their choosing. They opted for the Texas Hot in Wellsville over any of the fancier and more expensive places they could have chosen. They had never been before, and we hadn’t been there for nearly fifty years. It was the same as we remembered. The girls were fascinated by the wall-mounted juke box selector in the booth, while we were delighted with the conversation. Then it was on to the Pink House, an iconic nineteenth-century mansion that captivated their imagination.

We took the back road up out of the village to Alma Hill and down into the little hamlet where Linda and I started our life together fifty-three years ago. Other than the church and the general store/post office/gas station being closed, little had changed. Unfortunately, Linda and I never think about taking photos until after the fact. Only old folks can fully understand what a trip down memory lane means. We were given that gift today, with the added blessing of sharing it with our granddaughter and two of her new friends who in themselves are gifts of grace to her. 

Fifty years ago, we never would have imagined how blessed our lives would be; today we experienced a little bit of heaven with Mattie, Gabby, and Abby, and it was good; very good.