Memories of a Visit to My Grandmother's House
I remember the smell of the country air as we went down south to visit my grandmother.I liked to wiggle my feet in the red dirt. My mother would always tell me not to get dirty because the red dirt was hard to come out of my clothes.Being a child, I did not care. I ran and played with my cousins.I remember running up and down the dirt roads. I felt free. That was a happy time in my life.
How can I forget the chickens that roamed free? Yes, I threw rocks at them because I didn’t know any better. My parents would run out to make us stop. In the backyard of my grandmother’s house, there were a lot of trees. I was told not to go back there because of the snakes. It was so beautiful. I use to imagine that it was the Garden of Eden.
I remember how my cousins use to tie strings around the June Bugs and held the string while they flew around. I was scared of them but that didn’t stop me from watching. I loved the smells that came from my grandmother’s kitchen. A good old homemade southern cooked meal, it would always put a smile on my face. Every time I went there, I thought it was magical. It was refreshing because I saw things through a child’s eyes.
There was so much love and wisdom there. I miss how my grandmother and I had long talks, while we sat in the swing on the porch. The day my grandmother passed, all of that went away. The house is still standing but broken, abandoned and alone. The beautiful plants and garden that once surrounded the house are no longer there. The life of the house left when my grandmother went home.