Monday, April 17, 2006



I am feeling really nostalgic today and began looking through my pictures and updating my family tree book and I really began missing my family. I have been working in the senior's home at the hospital the last few days and so my grandparents have been on the forefront of my mind. I miss them terribly when I see kind blue eyes looking at me threw a sea of wrinkled and weathered skin caused by years and years of hard living. Then I start to miss what my life used to be like as a kid. Images of the way my sister, brother and I used to play in the barnyard, in the pastures, in the mud, in the trees, in the bales, in the barn and of the way we used to fight flutter through my mind like black and white movies. Remembering some of the silly things we used to do because our imaginations were working over time. Like feeding the horses Pop rock candy or the "forts" we made by piling fallen branches and scrap wood we found or tunneling through the round bales even though we weren't supposed to be there. I remember having to go to the water trough to fill it for the animals in the dark and being so afraid of wolves that I ran the entire way there trying my hardest to stay in the path of the lights I frantically turned on along the way...our yard light, Grandma'a house light and the barnyard light. I remember running my fastest once I got past the barn because that is right where the light stopped and I was drowning in darkness and fear once more. Running past the grain truck was utter torture because with all the shadows and self-induced fear the grill and headlights of the truck looked like the face of a huge monster.

We got heck more than once in the spring for playing in the pasture where the cows had their new calves nestled in the straw for warmth and for trying to lean up against our favorite cow of Grandma's because we normally could when she didn't have a calf. We got stuck more than once in the pasture as the water from the dugout overflowed and turned into quite a river with a bed of muck and manure that made for a great place to float our crudely crafted "Boats". Some days we got so stuck that our boots were pulled off our feet and were lost forever sinking down into the muddy pit of our pasture.

Taking coffee and lunch out to Dad and Grandpa was usually the highlight of the day when they were out in the field or hopping on the horses to take Dad lunch with a cold (and undrinkably shaken) bottle of beer so he could wet his dust ridden throat. Exploring the cattle paths in the "forest" in the pasture lead to hours and hours of fun and it also lead to unexpected life lessons like the time we found the dead fox or when we learned the bull was not trying to play leap frog with the cows.

When Grandpa was alive I went on walks with him all the time because I felt I needed to take care of him since he was so old. I usually ended up getting carried back by him because I was too tired to continue. I remember watching him take a big stick and making small trenches on the roads to allow the puddles to drain off the road; it helped him to feel useful when he began to feel like he had nothing to contribute to our farm.

I remember pretending to fall asleep on the couch so Dad or Grandpa would have to pick me up in their strong arms to put me to bed. It always made me feel like I lived in the safest place in the world and that I was the luckiest girl ever.

Now, I work too much. I miss my dad, my mom, my brother, my sisters and my neice and nephews. I think it's time to focus on what really I don't want to feel disconnected anymore.

1 comment:

Paula Joy said...

How beautifully written! Isn't is great to have memories? Honestly girl, write a book.