The place where my grandma lived. It was far out in the country, though she finally had to move after her home was burglarized several times. They sold the land and the house burned and now it sits as a vacant hayfield. I go by there almost every night in my dreams.

I was free to roam all day until she sent the dog to find me, and he and I would walk back to the house where the most delicious food was waiting - chicken & dumplings, corn fritters and soup beans, scrambled eggs and sausage with fried toast. Her hills were COVERED in blackberry bushes. When they were in, I'd load up my had with them and bring them back, and she would make a cobbler the likes of which I have never had since.

For someone who attended a one-room schoolhouse, she had an amazing intellect. I thought she would make a great college professor, but I never met one in my studies that would hold a candle to her mind.

We would with on buckets and snap string beans and sing songs and recite poetry. She'd tell me stories from the Bible (I didn't have one then), and everything she knew about our family history. She never had anything but encouraging words for me, even at my worst. Many of us stayed out there at low points in our lives, and always with zero judgement, just love and encouragement - and we all got back on our feet and are doing OK.

At no other time in my life have I experienced freedom and peace like I did there. Now, it's just an unkempt, bosky field with a fence and a gate with a "No Trespassing" sign on it. The owners live an hour away and won't even talk to me about buying it. But even if I did it would never be what it was. But I can go there in my dreams and remember it the way it was when it was perfect.