I'm from the forties and fifties. A simple time.
wringer washing machines, Faultless Starch and Castor Oil.
A peaceful little brown shingled house with white trim. A shady corner in the back covered with soft green moss.
Hydrangea bushes and Roses and Violets. Clothes lines and a Catalpa tree. Glorious blue Four O'clocks blooming at the kitchen window.
Sunday drives that ended with ice cream cones. People who smiled and made friends easily.
Grandpappy, Mammy ...Anne Moore. A little brother named Freddy.
The Merediths and all the Gregorys.
The Merediths and all the Gregorys.
Keeping feelings hidden away. Card players and good joke tellers.
Tending to your own business and trying to keep your nose clean.
Conservative protestants whose main objective was to simply live by the Golden Rule.
East Texas and Scotch Irish. Scotch and water.
Homemade spaghetti sauce and Mom's Corn Relish.
Mrs. Klose, the neighbor who tried to kill my mother with a garden hoe and went completely insane and had to be taken to the state hospital. My uncle who lost his arm in a car wreck and went on to become a psychologist before he died young of lung cancer.
A wealth of family pictures, heirlooms, mementos and other treasured trinkets,
which disappeared
when my mother
died.
Memoribilia...only things. Not to be confused as being important.
The memories though.
lasting.
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