It's hard to believe it was one year ago today that we started moving into our "new" house.  It was so empty and lonely-looking, with echoing rooms and bare, sightless windows.  Big enough for our family, but not so big as to be ominous or imposing.  Signs of my dad's and my uncle's craftmanship are throughout, but especially in the upstairs.  The chimney comes out of the floor and makes a 45-degree rotation before going into the ceiling.  To deal with this awkward placement, those Livingston brothers did what they knew to do-work with what you have and make it look good.  They built a baseboard frame around the chimney base and put the parquet tile flooring right around it.  Dad couldn't have known that he was building bedrooms and a playroom for his grandchildren.
My littlest must've known that my dad was on my mind today.  This evening out of nowhere she started crying and saying "I miss Grandpa Harry."  She never got to meet him, but I reassured her the best I could and told her he would've loved her very much.  The two of his grandkids that he did get to meet were awfully special to him.
Anyway, back to our house...a year after move-in day, the house is no longer empty-not by a long shot.  Curtains, rugs and furniture have made it look and sound and feel like home.  I don't know if this is the house our grandchildren will come and visit someday, but it will be the setting for our kids' memories for at least a few years to come.