It will always be home

When I remember back to my childhood, growing up in the Amana Colonies in Iowa, many pleasant thoughts come to mind.  It was beautiful place, where children could grow in safety and with a faith that would last a lifetime.  Everything was centered around family and church.  Usually three generations, sometimes four,  lived under one roof, and those roofs were covering very large homes.  

The photo below, to me, is how I remember home.  The bricks houses, the grape trellis covered with leaves and grapes in abundance.  The windows; quite often 9 panes of glass above and 9 panes below.  

My family home, built in 1872, with the same family owning it until we needed to sell it in 2001, after my mother passed away. 

Our home had 9 panes of glass above and 6 below.  I am not remembering the significance right now why some had 9 below and some had 6 panes of glass.  You could sometimes see the little bubbles left in the glass during it's making.  

Some of the homes were wooden and some were made of sandstone.  No matter, these were homes where our parents and their parents grew up and then where we children were also raised.

And in the end, we are all put to rest in the same way.  There are no family plots.  You are buried in the order in which you died.  The tombstones are simple; made of concrete with your name, date of death and the length of your days on earth.  In years past, the tombstones only recorded the year of birth and the year of death.

I have taken you on a very short tour of my Amana.  No matter where I have lived or what I have experienced, it all comes back to my childhood, growing up in Amana.