My grandmother, we call her Mema, had a beautiful house..a dream house, some might even say. She had the pool, jacuzzi and the huge yard; but it wasn’t the swimming or the playing of football that made her house so special to me. It was the little cozy apartment downstairs. I can still remember racing down the red carpeted stairs, turning left and entering the best room of the house.
The little apartment had three rooms. The first room I’d enter had a few couches, a little table for a family of four, and a kitchen area. It was the perfect place to play house. The second smaller room held two beds, with comforters from the 70’s or 80’s era. Then, there was a little bathroom attached to the bedroom. This apartment was more than place for my aunts and uncles to rest when they needed a place to sleep for awhile; it was a kids dream land. It’s strange how, throughout the day at Mema’s, all the grandkids would end up downstairs. Then, all of my older cousins would start up a good game of hide-n-seek, and we’d run throughout our “play house” looking for a good spot to hide. That little apartment wasn’t just a living area; it was a memory maker. Though I can’t remember much about the look of Mema’s house, I will always remember the fun times I had downstairs in the little apartment.