Musings from Memory Lane: Echoes

As I walk the boundaries of my property,  echoes from the past are all around me. This place I call home has been seeing my family's footsteps since 1927. If I listen closely enough, I can almost hear the echoes of voices long gone. I hear my great-grandparents planting a garden and my Dad running over his cousin with a pedal car. Another cousin hiding in the briar patch to escape being found after doing something he wasn't supposed to. All the apple butter making and hog killing , in my mind's eye, still exists.

Not to mention my Grandpa Dee courting my grandma.

Fast forward, and there's my Dad as a little boy running and playing.

Then, the sadness of loved ones lost seems to linger as well. So many dear ones have come and gone over the span of time my family has been here . So much love and loss. Yet, I have to say that love outweighs everything else. I remember, as a little girl, being afraid to watch the scary movies my cousin was showing in the living room. My great aunt Letha didn't hesitate to sit on the porch with me and talk about whatever I wanted until the shows were over.  It's rather ironic because now I'm a total horror nerd.

On another occasion, I remember being upset over something, and Letha took me off from everyone to the bedroom I sleep in now. We turned on a lava lamp I loved to watch and talked about dolls. I remember I had seen a new Tender Love Doll by Mattel, and Letha listened to me gush on and on about it. I never had to doubt that I was loved in that house.  It was there like a warm blanket wrapping around me and protecting me.

As the years passed, the people dwindled, but the love remained. My kids and I now share the home, and it pleases me to know I'm keeping up a fine tradition that started years ago. It brings me comfort to include family heirlooms in my holiday celebrations and to sit out photos of times long gone. I feel it's become my responsibility to keep the memories of the older generations alive for the younger ones.

So, as I cook a meal, I hope my great aunt Letha is smiling down on my efforts and maybe even in the echo of another time she is right there beside me, making biscuits and cooking brown beans.

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