Contenment

Memories

As I walked down a dusty and winding road, the sound of water beating against rocks caught my attention. Not only did I hear water flowing, I felt moisture in the air. Suddenly, out of the blue, I stumbled over a pile of entangled driftwood. A jagged piece of wood scraped my leg, thankfully, the skin was not exposed. The sound of a babbling brook cutting through the backwoods of Alabama led me to a weather-beaten road sign which read, Underwood Road, underneath my breath,I mumbled, Underwood Road,this road name is familiar.

As I continued walking, a cool breeze stirred up a variety of blooming flowers and plants. Oh,! what a wonderful scent,lilac and honeysuckle filling the air. The changing tones and echoes of nature captivated my senses. Birds chirping, feeding their young, bees buzzing-- extracting nectar. A wide-eyed white spotted owl starred and hooted at me probably wondering,

“Who is this stranger and where is she going?”

In a distance, smoke was coming from the chimney of a log cabin. Quickly, I walked toward the cabin -- without fear. Thankfully, there were no dogs outside -- unleashed to bark or growl at me. Cords of wood were stacked neatly on the ground next to the barn. Standing near a smokehouse, an old mule was drinking water; not worried about my presence, he continued drinking his water from a wooden barrel, enjoying every ounce.

Inside the smokehouse,were a few hams, side pork and pork belly for bacon hung on meat hooks. A couple of healthy horses, one, black and white, the second one was chestnut brown were in the barn sharing a bale of hay. Three cows were grazing in the pasture, each wearing a collar with a bell around it’s neck. As I stepped upon the front porch, I frighten a few chickens out of some feathers. Peeping through a tiny window, an elderly man sat at a wooden table; around the table, there were a couple of benches with a few lard buckets used for chairs. The man was eating cornbread and milk from a jade colored bowl.

The candle setting on the table had plenty of wick, I could see the man’s face. The mans lanky body was dressed in a tattered pair of bib jeans attached to suspenders with a partially buttoned red flannel shirt. His brown unlaced boots were worn and dirty. Oh, my goodness, it’s my Grandpa Watson. I knocked on the window and yelled,

“Grandpa, look at me, it’s, Carolyn Kaye, let me in.”

He did not respond, he kept eating. Lying on the floor near a screened fireplace, an old blue tick hound looked mighty comfortable soaking up the warmth of air flowing through the atmosphere. Oh, my, it was old Blue, I yelled,

“Blue come here.”

Blue never looked in my direction; nor, made a sound. On the mantle, above the fireplace,a miniature grandfather clocks time was set at 1:35 pm. On the wall above the fireplace hung a family photo with my grandparents, my uncle, aunts and mom. In the kitchen, a calendar was dated August 6, 1960. The woman of the house wore a multicolored bonnet. It was my my Grandma Watson. As I knocked louder on the window pane, I cried out,

“Hi, Grandma, come here, can't you hear or see me?

She continued sitting at her sewing machine patching a pair of pants. She was humming a familiar--song, ‘Rock of Ages’.’ Her long bright blue flowered fraying dress touched the floor against her black, two-inch thick healed shoes. Her gray thin hair was twisted in its usual bun, held with a couple of brown comb barrettes. I ran over to the door; then, walked into the cabin, my grandparents continued their daily routine.

Inside, my grandparent’s home, I'm examining everything they own. My grandmother’s green chicken made of wood with a pin cushion and spindles for thread set on shelf near her foot paddled Singer sewing machine. In the kitchen, on the dry sink set a white and red rimmed pan filled with water for washing hands. A bucket full of freshly drawn well water with a dipper inside the water was on the kitchen sink, a sink, never hooked up for running water. In the middle of the table set a pile of biscuits and cornbread covered with a cheese cloth.

Sitting next to the bread set jars of sorghum syrup. All four iron beds were covered with a patchwork quilt, each, beautiful. Temptation overpowered my senses, I could not help myself, I had to feel each delicate tiny square of material and rubbed it against my skin. Most of them were cotton, others, felt like fine silk. Every stitch held a different story; stitches sewn with hard working, painful and loving fingertips. Hand made worth more than any amount of gold or silver.

My, oh, my, such wonderful memories running through my mind-- brightening my spirit. Oh,how peaceful I feel this moment. No one touched,or wrinkled grandma’s beds. The inside of the cabin was small,yet, large enough to fill my heart and soul with comfort and joy. There were several jars of food on hand upon a shelf in the kitchen. Suddenly, the smell of boiling beans and potatoes with a pan of chicken frying on the wood stove woke my taste buds.

The aroma of beans reminded my salivary glands and olfactory senses of the savory distinguished flavor only my grandma perfected. A taste and smell never forgotten. Sadly, since they did not see, nor,hear me, I had to leave. As I turned to leave, in a split-second, I was alone. I glanced around, then yelled,

“Where are you?"

At this juncture, and silence. I walked toward the front door to peep outside; snow had begun to fall and surround the house. The front porch facade a crystallized lake of ice. Wind with a misty drizzle of rain mixed with the snow begun putting extra weight on branches of trees touching the tin roof. The trees normal hues of burnt orange and crimson colored leaves were scattered under a blanket of snow. It was getting cold,I returned inside the cabin. I yelled,

“Maw Maw and Paw Paw, where are you?"

No answer, a chill went through my body, I had to get warm. The room temperature was became very cozy as the furnishings in the room. The furniture was modern. I stepped in front of the fireplace to warm my shivering body. A few feet from the fireplace sat a huge rocking chair with thick cushions, I sat down, and rocked. As I rocked listening to the crackling of the wood burning in the fireplace getting warm, sprinkles of water began slowly dripping down the chimney mixed with smoke questing and splashing on my face.

The smoke made me cough, my eyes watered, the more, I rubbed them, the worst they ever felt,it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to normal. Looking out the picture window, a hint of the setting sun hiding behind cirrus clouds. I thought, how nice it would be if it were spring. To listen to blue jays sing their favorite tunes, watch children ride by on bicycles or playing hide and seek, soon,the ever changing seasons shall resume its rounds.

Flowers will bloom, to spread perfumed scents, of lilac and honeysuckle. Butterflies shall flutter wings to pollinate the flowers. As I look around the room, an oil painting sketched a picture of a violin displayed on a cluttered mantel captivated my attention. In the picture, unorganized books were a sign, those books were read -- used, the home pictured spoke volumes, “I am lived in and enjoyed.” I realized everyone who walked into this home were welcomed,comfortable as if they were home.

They don’t take off their shoes, they eat on the couch, watching television without feeling uptight. Unlike myself, for many years panic overwhelmed my mind, when someone came over; or, just mentioning coming over. Nothing around me felt clean enough; or, good enough for others. Even sparkling clean. I was miserable. When I’d get new furniture,I felt so uncomfortable sitting on a new couch, worrying about someone spilling. Just a piece of lint on the floor had to get picked up. In the past,I felt like running away, or hiding.

A chime from the grandfather clock standing in my dining room struck a chord. Confronting reality afterward, I begun thinking of times, I’d sit in a hard back rocker, not comfortable in my own house. Yes, new furniture and accessories are nice to have; your sanity is more important. My house was clean, the curtains were drawn, the lights were low trying to relax. Yet, I couldn’t relax in my home. I wasted many years worrying about material things. Every moment is precious, we must enjoy every hour. My deceased sister-in-law and I were talking one day about the mess children make playing with toys. I had been ranting and raving about my child's toys lying in the living floor. She told me,

“Carolyn, leave those toys in the floor, your children are alive to play with those toys."

An infant of hers, a little girl died from SIDS, then, her oldest son was hit and killed by a car. She was visiting us from Alabama,in Michigan, to attend a brother’s funeral. The previous owners of my present home had given us their family Bible, a recliner and a couple of matching sets of cups and saucers. Before leaving for home,

Martha asked, me if she could have one of the cup and saucer sets. I told her,

“No."

To date,those cups have never been used, they are in a cabinet. Recently, I began thinking about the day, I refused giving her the cup and saucer. It has taken me many years to realize it better to give,than to receive.

Martha, my sister-in-law never lived in a house with running water until the late 1980’s. The houses she and my grandma lived in were shacks, Martha lived in shacks until the last few years of her life. Grandma, had moved into a new unfinished home before she died. She had a new living room suit, a table with chairs., yet, never had running water.

Grandma did not live long enough to enjoy the new furniture. In the past, no one would have wanted to walk into either Grandma or Martha s house, they would have been too afraid of falling through cracks in the plank floors. Yet, in both woman’s eyes and heart, they were home,they were content, as Queen Elizabeth, whom lives in a beautiful palace.

If, Martha, or, grandmother received word someone was in need for food, shelter; or, anything, their dilemma ceased. Martha and grandma’s heart were filled with love, kindness and compassion. Both women would have given you the shirts off of their

back -- long as you were in need.