Some of the blog post I read this a.m. inspired me to write a few thoughts.
I always exercise my memory banks by trying to remember those things I have forgotten from pure laziness, not thinking they, those memories, were important. They were and are.
Therefore, I try to remember the fine details of living at home as a child and as a young teenager. Sometimes it is painful. I could have been a better child or teenager. There were things left unsaid by all of us, not just me.
Today I did not dress warmly enough for my 64 degree house; not having turned up the thermostat. However, I remembered getting up in a rural wood house with no central air and heat, and after daddy had died, no wood fire in the middle bedroom to go and huddle close to. Therefore, the memory was sitting with mother in her robe, which I now have, by the gas heater in the big kitchen which had a counter, a side table and a round table along with the pie safe and a china cabinet built by Uncle Earnest. This one memory is sitting there, Mother with the hands around a cup of warm coffee, smiling, and me…I cannot see me. It is a good memory. Mother was such a kind person. I always wanted to build her a big house on the hill with every convenience. I never got to do that and I wonder if I had, would my sister have let other people live in it and not me ever?
Just thoughts on the second day of the New Year.