The Memory Never Fades

Childhood Memories

The Memory that Never Fades

              The memory of her still haunts me, when a cool breeze blows through the window in the fall. It reminds me of the summers in the northern Maine where the air is cool, crisp and fresh. Remembering the farm house and kitchen where she spent most of her time. My brother and I use too pick extra blueberries so she would bake. Baking was her thing not cooking, but all the bread, cakes and pies she used to make were out of this world. She would have us read or do some art such as making puppet out of papier-mâché in the kitchen as she baked, she was big on the arts and literature and use to help us with them.

               She was there for us unconditionally since we were adopted from the orphanage, a truly giving person with no strings attached. As quiet as she was, she could always make her point known, and directed us in a proper respectful fashion. She was a teacher to us all who knew her, and especially a mentor to me.

               When she moved away when they decided to retire, took the time away from my children to get to know her. With my work we even spent was even more time away from her, my children barely knew her except from pictures. She then got sick and was fighting cancer, after battling this for five years it took its toll.

                My job took me away from my family and I was traveling all the time, the day I call to see how she was doing, because I wanted to do one more run before the weekend. I was told she was doing Ok and not to worry about it, so I took the run, and as I was in Canada when I got the call, I guess her frail body could take it anymore and my mother past. I just hope that I can teach some of the virtues like art, literature, unconditional love and respect to my children as she did, her memory will never fade.

M. J. Deverix

Author's Note

What do you think of the dialogue?