I REMEMBER 

 by Linda Birkline

When she looked at me with her happy light brown eyes they twinkled and the generations of the past could be seen. I was told I inherited her eye color. When she smiled, her face lit up with love and understanding and the wisdom which preceded her came out as she spoke.

When she moved, her gait gave evidence that although in pain or discomfort, she had learned to walk in dignity and yet still be able to bend and move and work her garden of beautiful flowers and fabulous vegetables.

Her hands held the memory of many years of sewing and creating perfect embroidery and delicious cakes and dinners and foods.  She reared three daughters who grew up to be wonderful women and gave her seven grandchildren.

 Her bookshelves were full of many books she read and learned and discussed. Her long dark brown hair was sprinkled with silver and was soft and beautiful. She would braid it and wind the braid into a little bun on the back of her head and put beautiful combs on the side to hold the wisps of new hair on the sides. 

Her glasses held her hearing aids. Without those she was stone deaf , unable to hear. She frequently wore dresses and was a perfect lady. She loved to can pickles and she loved to hang clothes on the line because they smelled so sweet when dried in the sun.

Her house was tidy, and there was a special feeling when you walked into her house. Her husband was very ambitious and a wonderful happy man. His garage was full of antique tools and tools he had fashioned to work in a different way for his own uses. He was creative and could fix most anything.

I will never forget the smell of the old wood garage. It was a sweet wood smell with a mix of oil and gas from the cars and still another smell I can’t easily identify except to him. Perhaps it was a mixture of the honey he would harvest from the hives,  or maybe the coal dust on his clothing or the wooden vegetable boxes he had or something else he used to work the garden or turn the soil. He was a coal miner.

 She had once been a teacher and they were my mother’s parents. Sweet sweet people…

They were well known in their small town. They were frugal with their money and skilled with their hands. Their grapevine produced big grapes perfect for jams and jellies. They had a beautiful lawn with a huge pecan tree. They are gone now and the house is owned by people who have no memory of them and the house will never be the same. It is run down and so much has changed, yet the memory of these amazing people live on in me.