Granny Bryer’s house

Granny Bryer’s house was always my safe haven. Growing up, I was my granny’s favorite. (My twin sister and cousins will attest to that) She and my papa live just a block down from my house, and after school I would always ride my bike to their house.

This humble home was a worn-out yellow color. Walking in, you are immediately encompassed by cigarette smoke and whatever papa had cooking that day. The walls inside are a fresh looking green, with floral wallpaper. You will noticed the four walls decorated with countless school pictures of my sister, cousins and I. The humble home sits on the corner of my two-mile radius hometown.

I remember as a young child running out the back door, and always loved the way the spring caught the door. Just when you thought the door would slam shut, the screen door hesitated and then a couple seconds later you would here the small slam. I recognized a specific rhythm from walking out the back door so much, and know just when to listen to hear it when I make trips home.

Truth is, many doors opened and closed at granny Bryer’s house throughout my life. My grandparents are the most giving, selfless people I know and everyone in our small town community knows they are always welcome to come inside the small yellow house on the edge of town. I hope to have an open door policy one day, and to love and embrace others just the way my grandparents do.