Cornflake Girl

Yah, it's a Tori Amos song. It's also what Jase called me now and again because I was from the land of corn... Iowa. I left there before this picture was taken in Oklahoma. The only experience with my birth state comes from visiting my grandparents. Getting lost in their big farm houses and basements. When you think of fond childhood memories... the visions of a little Hollie running through a farm and field with her cousins and playing hide and seek in what felt like the biggest houses to the imagination. Watching my grandma cook dinner and always having a cookie at my available fingertips... home made, no doubt. There were aunts and uncles, cousins and their friends. There were the old cars and toys that were uniquely just for the trips to see family. I went back this Thanksgiving weekend. Back for the first time since my Grandma K passed away when I was 10... it's been nearly 20 years. I forgot the feel of those small towns. Almost village-like. The little grocery stores and the kids who look like they are 13 bagging your food... and bringing it out to your car. I was left with the question... why oh why are all midwest farm houses white??? I did not see a single one that wasn't. The houses white, the barns red. Remind me to google that!

After the long drive... the instant we entered there was snow on the ground. I forgot how absurdly cold it was there at this time of year. It's harsh. Bordering Minnesota I wanted to start talking like I was from Sweden. We stayed in most of the time. Stepping into my Grandma's little house (she sold the big house on the farm after my grandpa died when I was 6) I had never been to this one. I figured there would be no memories there. I was proved wrong! Almost every inch of her walls were covered with pictures. There were pictures of me from birth on up... pictures of my brother I haven't seen since I was a child. There was green shag carpet and a little television. There were the crocheted items throughout the house. There were still cookies at every available fingertip... if not more. Of course, there was my grandma. She was smaller and frailer... she couldn't walk well and she forgot alot. But... to her, I was still her "little Hollie" (being the youngest of ALL of the cousins) and "oh so special" just like 20 years ago. It was wonderful feeling like a kid to your grandma... there were moments in her gentle embrace I felt as if I was that big brown eyed blonde girl with pigtails holding a very special gift from her grandma. She loved the sound of them playing. Her smile was illuminating. This time, the gift I was holding was the gift of my own children sharing in her love.

I am so pleased we went... and I am so pleased to have spent the holiday with loved ones and the spirit of the Iowa I knew as a child.