The White House in the Distance

A summer years ago, when nothing seemed to matter except playing as much as possible before dark. I wasn't afraid of anything yet and experienced everything as if it were the first time. At the tender age of five, the world was my playground and nothing bad could ever happen.

My parents let me spend an entire month with my grandmother, who was my favorite person in the world. The big two-story white house set in the center of acres of land, surrounded by cattle, gardens, barns, and a hillside filled with patches of small trees.

Located far off the road, you were lucky if you even saw a car drive by more than once or twice a day on the distance, country road. It was a truly peaceful, idyllic place that felt more like a fairytale than reality.

Nothing felt safer than running around in the sunshine, riding my bike on the dirt driveway, and exploring every nook and cranny of the vast hillside, while smartly avoid steaming cow patties.

Then, coming in as the sun slowly set, marveling at how the pond would go from shadow to flame as the last rays of sunset wash over it. Granny always had the most incredible home-cooked meals ready. To this day, I've never been able to mimic her cooking, but her food is something I'll never forget.

A little TV, reading a good book together, and then drifting off to the sound of crickets and the soft mooing of cattle.

Fast forward 30 years and I'm now an adult, plagued by problems I could have never imagined at five. Working for hours only to see my paycheck wiped away from the growing stack of bills. Worrying about my own health, helping aging parents navigate their changing life, and falling into bed every night exhausted, but too stressed to sleep.

Every day, the same routine. Cram in as much work at my job and home as possible. No time for fun. No time for hobbies. And definitely no time to sit back and enjoy the world around me.

Now, the innocence of youth is far gone and the white house I used to see in the distance while playing is a memory I've long buried. It's amazing how being able to glance up and see Granny's house while I was several mile away on the hillside always made me feel safe.

I visited as much as I could growing up and as an adult. But, nothing compared to that one summer. There never seemed to be time enough to play as I got caught up in the problems of the adults around me. Growing up too quickly, I forgot about innocence and instead dived into fixing what I could to help make others happy.

Now, Granny's moved on to a better place. No more pain, no more stress. Just the peace of Heaven she deserves. It's been over a year since her death and I'm still not quite over it. But, I know 90 years is a long, wonderful life and hers was filled with love, laughter, and family. I can only pray I'll have the same.

Her children have already went through her things, deciding what to keep and what to donate. The house going up for sale in just a few months. Outside of the funeral, I haven't been back. I just couldn't face standing in her home, but no longer seeing her there.

Today, 30 years after a summer I can barely recall, I need an escape. Too many demands weighing on my slumping shoulders. On a rare day off from work, I jump into my car and start to drive. No destination in mind, just driving to get away.

I put on a nostalgic playlist that brings back happier times during my teens. For the first time in years, I'm smiling. Genuinely smiling.

Without thinking, I turn onto the exit leading to the mountains. To Granny's home. I'm not sure why. I know it'll only bring me heartache. But, I'm also wearing her favorite earrings. Until this day, I hadn't put them on, even though she left them to me in her will. It just felt right to wear them today.

Several hours later, I'm here. Pulling down the familiar dirt driveway, bumping my way over the washed out areas, hoping I don't get my small car stuck. Even though I've got my phone, there's no reception here. It's like stepping into another time, when I wasn't ruled by dings and rings from the thin computer in my purse.

For almost an hour, I just sit, staring at the white house. The weather worn boards are speckled now as flecks of paint have long since washed away. Yet, it still feels safe.

As I step out of my car, it's not sadness I feel. There isn't grief or anger or depression. It's joy. Pure happiness and joy. Suddenly, I'm five again, looking up at a giant white house filled with possibilities for the summer.

Without thinking, I follow the worn cattle path up the hill where I once played. A path I haven't set foot on in 30 years. My parents always felt it was too dangerous, but Granny let me run free that month. Something I'll always be grateful for.

The moment I see the little grove of trees with the large rocks in the center, everything else in my life disappears. I have no responsibilities. I have no stress. I'm just a little girl, feeling the warmth of the sun through the branches.

The trees have only grown slightly, but they're still sturdy enough to support my weight as I climb. From the rocks, I can barely see the top of the house. From the highest branches, I get a view that takes my breath away.

A white house settled in the middle of the land. Lush green grass, a sparkling pond, and cows from the neighbors still in the fields.

A feeling washes over me. Familiar, yet strange. Could it be? After all I've been through so far, is innocence still possible? Yes. I'm five and innocent all over again.

I laugh, singing songs Granny and I used to sing together. Silly little tunes filled with nonsense, but the greatest music that ever existed.

It feels like a moment frozen in time. As long as I'm here, the world can't touch me. I'm free to play, to laugh, and fall in love with life again.

I can even smell her cooking wafting through the windows, out on the breeze, and up the hill, beckoning me home for the evening.

Feelings and memories I'd long left behind fill me and push away all the stress, worry, and sadness that's plagued me for years. I'm reminded that innocence isn't something we lose, but something we bury deep, afraid it may make us weak. As it turns out, I just felt stronger than ever before.

The choice is made in an instant. I'm not leaving. This was my haven when I was five and it'll be my haven again.

I rush back to my car, driving out of the valley to the small town nearby. I make the call that'll change my life forever. My own tiny home now for sale and Granny's home mine.

Yes, everything is changing and it all started with a return to the white house in the distance and the innocence I thought I'd lost long ago. Thank you Granny for giving me the freedom and courage to embrace life fully once again.