Three years ago today marks the day that our family home built by my Great Great Grandfather caught fire.  I thought about how my mother and I drove up to the house praying that the damage would be small and that the house could be saved. We wrecked our brains about what material things of my Great Grandmas were in the old cedar trunks and if all the old photo albums would be ok. I remember when we pulled up running out of the car and seeing the windows blown out and I turned to look back and saw my mom fall to her knees crying. It was the worst thing for me to see not only the house that we loved burning but the woman I look to for guidance and strength sobbing as my father tried to console her.

            It was a sad day and now three years later looking back its important to see where we are now. A lot of hands helped rebuild the house and a lot of love was put back into the house. I can breathe easier knowing that the house is safer and the way my parents always dreamed it would be. Sure it may be a little bigger and different but laugher is filling the house and new memories are being made. I know that once my parents retire from the bump and grind it will be a place we all gather and share fun times. Mom and Dad I love you so much and I am glad you decided to rebuild the house and not tear all of it down. I know Great Great Grandfather is looking down with approval.