Memories

Today my daughter and I were sitting on her back porch just talking and enjoying the afternoon sun. We began to talk about the trip we are planning to California next summer. Her kids want to see Hollywood and the Pacific Ocean. California is the place where I grew up and I want to introduce my grandchildren to my brothers whom they have never met. I said I would like to go to the Church of Christ in Whittier. As I said those words a huge lump stopped my throat, my eyes filled with tears, and emotions flooded over me. I couldn’t speak as the memories poured over me. I grew up in that church. I learned to love Jesus there. I remember the sweetness and purity I felt when I was baptized there at age eleven. I held tightly to my father’s arm in that building as I walked down the aisle the day I was married. Dennis was smiling and so handsome. The building was decorated with yellow roses and filled with family and friends the day we celebrated my parents golden anniversary. They were laughing and happy that day. Then the building again filled with flowers, family and friends at my dad’s funereal. My mom held tightly to my arm and cried. Two years ago we had mom’s funeral there. At age 94 she had outlived most of her friends so the crowd was smaller, but her family gathered and tearfully honored this wonderful woman.

I want to once again visit this little church. It is holy ground for me.