Ila Beulah's Home

Close, not perfect, larger,but close
Close, not perfect, larger,but close | Source

Memories

It seems the older we get the more in tune we are with the ones we love. We share common thoughts, beliefs, memories and that sharing makes us more ‘together’ than we were. Even or perhaps especially, when we are far apart from one another.

That is the case between my oldest sister and myself. Mary and I have managed to stay not just sisters but friends, despite all the tribulations of our separate lives. This week Mary wrote the best poem about her memories of our maternal grandparent’s home and I added to it. As I read her words, I found myself walking through that wonderful three-room house and I thought to myself

“I can hear it too! Mary! Can you hear the sounds of that time and place?”

With that thought, I began to scribble away; telling myself, “I ought to ask permission, I need to call Mary and ask permission!”

Then I thought, I can't! I have to put down what I am hearing!

Of course, Mary and I talk on the phone every weekend at least and of course, she loved my addition to her work and cannot wait to hear what you all think of our collaborative efforts. Here it is then, our song, poem, story. I have also challenged both Mary and myself to see what we can do about setting it to music! Won’t that be grand!

Do you have a time and place that calls you from out of the past?


Ila Beulah’s Home

Ila Beulah’s Home


By Mary

For me and my sister Boo July 23,2014

Ila Beulahs home so welcoming,

Safe

Colors of dust brown and grey

With Parakeets that meet the day

Round table full of food

Rabbit, chicken, goats milk too

Ila Beulahs home so welcoming

Safe

There beyond the porch

Our eyes watched Jinx

Mesmerized as his fireflies

And his metal sings

Who would guess his leather apron bends

To the construction of a swing

Ila Beulahs home so welcoming,

Safe

We are proud to have known them

And to have seen their world

Lights with pulled cords

Ila Beulahs home so welcoming,

Safe

Addition by Barbara Ann Reynolds Bethard September 21,2014

Time continues its plodding way

Some memories fade

While others seem made to stay

Bright, clear, even the sounds come through.

Remember the squeak of the screened in porch door?

Announcing the arrival of cousins, uncles, aunts and us!

But not the swing!

It sounded smooth

Of course why not; it was built

With Jinx’ tools!

And can’t you hear the clack of coal

Against the bucket as in it goes!

Into the round bellied stove

No matter the season

Ila Beulah gets a mite cold

Each son and daughter of the Barden clan

Was happy to help in every way

Not just with the warmth

But whatever was needed to brighten the day.

Hear the animals as they cluck, bleat, bark and neigh.

Hear the sounds of cooking, canning, washing and laughter.

Pots and pans on the stove

Mason jars stretch to the ceiling

Ila Beulahs pickles were a sight to behold!

Oh my yes, dear sister Mary, we were blessed

To have seen and heard

We were a part of their world.

Nothing can take those sights

Those sounds from our souls.

Of our Grandparents home and of their love

So welcoming

Safe.

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Comments 7 comments

vocalcoach profile image

vocalcoach 2 years ago from Nashville Tn.

My brother, sister and I have been sharing memories about our childhood by phone. We've decided to all meet together for Christmas at my brothers home in Utah.

Thank you for sharing your awesome poetry and thoughts. Will share - Audrey


WillStarr profile image

WillStarr 2 years ago from Phoenix, Arizona

Wow! This is really great stuff, Barb! Voted up and superb!

BTW, we've missed you.


RNMSN profile image

RNMSN 2 years ago from Tucson, Az Author

thank you vocalcoach! I bet you guys have an awesome time!

Ah WillBill thank you thank you :) but hey, I needed a little help from my friend (sister) and hopefully the words will start pouring again lol she has been after me to work on my Maddie story...thank you so much for your words!!!!!!


teaches12345 profile image

teaches12345 2 years ago

You have reminded me of how much our past makes us who we are today. Your poem brought good memories to mind. Wish we could relive those moments some days.


RNMSN profile image

RNMSN 2 years ago from Tucson, Az Author

thank you teaches12345 !!! it is good to walk those paths in our memories, they are only a breath away aren't they


WriterJanis profile image

WriterJanis 2 years ago from California

This was delightful to read.


RNMSN profile image

RNMSN 2 years ago from Tucson, Az Author

thank you Janis! it was fun to collaborate with my sister ...she will be delighted to know you enjoyed it!

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