The Attic

I have been waking up thinking about my maternal grandmother's attic this week. Like, for the past 4 mornings! 

So I thought I would pay attention to what this may mean. 

I loved my Gram! She was always "old" to me; she had white hair the whole time I knew her which was until she died at age 96 when I was 37 years old. She lived in Pennsylvania and we lived in Virginia. Our vacations were to visit her and my mom's siblings (she being the youngest of 5) and all my cousins! Grand times they were. 

And there was the Attic! 

Gram lived in a small white house at 62 Norman Street in Reading Pennsylvania.  I loved this house! I loved every thing about it! It had a wonderful basement where Gram kept her canned goods and had her washer (she hung her clothes out which is where I got my love of hanging clothes outside from), and a first floor and then stairs to go up to the three bedrooms.

But this is about the Attic!

So there was one bathroom upstairs. It had one of those footed tubs which I also adored and would love to have one day and a toilet where you had to pull the chain to get it to flush and a sweet sink area. But in the bathroom was the closed door that led to the attic!

The Attic! We were not allowed in the attic!

Yep....only on a few special occasions were us kids allowed to go into the attic and it had to be with mom or dad and only to bring down a few old toys she kept up there. But oh I remember it well. It was the type of attic they use to put in homes that were really like another room. It had all wood flooring and was tall enough to stand up in. I wanted to spend lots of time there, but we were not allowed. She said, "you don't need to be up there!" The stairs going up were thin and made the best creaking sound as you were climbing to The Attic!

When I was an adult and went to visit with my husband and new baby, I asked if I could take my husband up to the attic. She said no! Later when I went to visit her and I was alone, I went to the bathroom and gently opened the door with the plans of sneaking up into the attic for a peak. As I was doing so, Gram appeared at the bathroom door and just looked at me. When I asked if I could go up she said, "No!"

The Attic!

So, like I said, I have been waking up thinking about Gram's Attic. I am not sure why it was off limits---she was probably afraid that we would get hurt even as adults, but just suffice it to say, as often as I was in her home and spent many months there in the summer times of my adolescence; I was only up there once or twice. But I do remember The Attic.

We all have places like this don't we? We all have "places" where people want to go and we say no. There are parts of our lives that people want to visit and we say No! And there are places in our hearts, our minds and our souls that are off limits to others. Even our closest most beloved are told no when they ask to be allowed in!

And so maybe this is why I have been waking up to The Attic. It was a place of mystery and intrigue as I was growing up. But I learned to respect her right to say no, and not invite me to explore that which she wanted to keep to herself! I waited to be invited and she never did and that is ok.

I now wait to be invited into another's life, journey, heart, mind and soul. I ask questions out of respect for their right to say no! And when the answer is yes, "yes, climb the creaky stairs and I will let you explore what I hold onto so dearly", it is a tremendous honor! One that I cherish highly! But when the answer is no, I am fully comfortable waiting to be invited and if I never am, that's ok too!

The Attic!

Oh how I wish I had been able to spend more time there! But once again, a message from my Gram has led me to a life that honors everyone's right to keep the door closed to parts of themselves both physically, emotionally and spiritually! It is something we could all get better at! I am still listening!

Blessed be!