Grandma & Grandpa’s House

In the small town of Danbury, NH,
along a dirt road lined by stone walls
stood the home of my Grandma & Grandpa Lindsay
and their Golden Labrador, Lucky.

An old barn stood off to the side
filled with adventures and treasures
for a young boy like myself.

The house was old, with no electricity
oil lamps and candles provided light
and constantly running water from a pipe
in the kitchen sink provided water from a
spring on a hill near the house.

An old wood stove and oven in the kitchen
provided heat, hot water and a cooking area.
There were no toilets, only an outhouse in a shed
attached to the rear of the house.

The backyard wasn’t large, and dropped off
gradually to the railroad tracks below.
I can still hear the freight train whistles
echoing in my mind.

Just across the tracks was a state highway
and across that highway was a river, with
crystal clear cool water and a swimming hole.

Grandma & Grandpa Lindsay’s house was a
gathering place for the Lindsay clan. Grandma
was always busy in the kitchen preparing items
for dinner and baking her wonderful pies and cakes.
I can still smell those wonderful smells

Grandpa was a telephone lineman, and even though
he was retired, he was on call for emergencies. He
was always chopping wood and keeping the fire going
in the kitchen stove.

When he passed away, Mom and I stayed with Grandma all summer.
At the end of that summer, Grandma came
home to live with us on Staten Island. The house
in Danbury is still owned by the family and has been
renovated and winterized.

Those days at Grandma & Grandpa’s house made me
the man I am today.

~The Tennessee Poet~
Β©Walt Page 2020 All Rights Reserved

18 thoughts on “Grandma & Grandpa’s House

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  1. This a truly touching poem. I am glad the house is still in the family. My grandparents built their own house from digging out the basement on up and it sadly was sold after they both had passed. If it hadn’t been in Omaha I might have considered moving, but I am not a big city girl. I just wish one of my cousin’s could have moved in. All that work they put into it! I hate to think what new owners have done to it.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “I can still hear the freight train whistles
    echoing in my mind.”

    There’s something about this poem…that makes me fail in articulating why I’m so moved. Gonna read this one out to my grandpa. πŸ’›

    Liked by 1 person

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