Safe in the hands of generations past

On Thursday evening, I spent the night at my grandparents house.

In the room where I have slept one hundred times - the same creaks and pops, the same soft linens and pillows, the same trains whistling.

But with my child nestled beside me.

I lay watching the car lights chase across the wall feeling as safe as I did as a child.  The walls - three bricks deep - built with my grandfather's and great grandfather's hands over 50 years ago. Blanketed under quilts hand-stitched by generations of my grandmothers and aunts.

My baby breathed heavily as I recognized my Thanksgiving was coming to a sleepy end with my grandparents just feet away.  Thankful for the health of both sets of my grandparents still living and healthy. My parents, my brother and sister-in-law, my nephews, my aunts and uncles, cousins...

Safe and warm with the next generation sleeping soundly wrapped in the same hand-crafted love.