Honk, Honk, Honk

Gram and Grandpa’s house sat on an acre in the middle of a small city in Missouri.  Once into town, we turned left at the Braum’s, then right, past an apartment complex, and when we topped the hill, their house was on the right. 

For the longest time, deep red shake siding welcomed us up the steep, black asphalt to their door.  We parked just off the driveway under one of the pecan trees.  They’d almost always be watching out the window.  One of them would throw the front door open before we could knock or ring the bell.  They’d both squeeze us all tight with greeting.  Gram would exclaim, “Well, glory be! You’re here safe and sound!”

Greetings, hugs and exclamations welcomed us into a house that wasn’t our everyday home, but so full of love, it could easily have been.  

Childhood summer memories from their house have flooded my mind lately.  Last week I mentioned snapping beans on the porch, but there was also frozen apple cookies and chocolate crinkles after each meal, wagon rides behind the small tractor and a yard big enough for us to play baseball. 

A vision of our old station wagon pulling out of Gram and Grandpa’s driveway came to mind, too.  As we loaded the car and exchanged hugs, Gram would say to Dad, “Drive safe, you have precious cargo.”  Dad would honk the horn three times as he backed down the driveway.  Then, they would stand on the porch and wave until we were over the hill and couldn’t see them anymore.  We would all wave back.  In every memory I have of pulling out of the long black driveway on Highview, we honked three times.  Fast forward, thirty years and when I leave my parents driveway, I honk three times.  When my brothers and sisters leave my driveway, they honk three times. 

Three honks when you leave, three taps after a hug, three squeezes when you walk by, three kisses goodnight, all are part of our family way.  Ways to say, “I love you” without actual words.  The reassurance comes through our ears with honks and words.  It comes through our skin with taps and squeezes.  It sinks into our hearts.  We are the precious cargo. 

My house and porch are more quiet than usual today.  I watched my boy ride away yesterday in a van full of pre and early teens.  There were no honks and just a few through-the-window waves.  For me, three blinks to rid my eye of a simultaneously thankful and nervous tear.  They are the precious cargo.

Author Emily P. Freeman introduced me to a quote by Elizabeth Elliott, “You are loved by an everlasting love.  And underneath are the everlasting arms.” It’s reflective of,

I have loved you with an everlasting love.

Jeremiah 31:3

Jeremiah spoke God’s words to an exiled Israel.  It’s reflective of David’s repeating words,

His love endures forever.

Psalm 136

And Paul’s words,

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, not anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8

Three verses echo back to us, so that we may hold them close today.  You – we – are loved by an everlasting love.  You are the precious cargo.

Does your family have an unspoken language to show love, too?  I’d love to hear.

As I say goodbye today, sweet friend, three honks to remember you are loved. 

Hugs and Blessings – Bethany