I lifted the kitchen shade to a beautiful, steel gray canvas, slowly revealing the dawn of a new day. Poured another cup of my morning coffee to accompany the reminiscent scenes on my mind. So often I find myself stepping off the pages of my editing and on to the paths where my memories were being carved
Nostalgia sweeps in around me when I remember our family visits to Momaw and Popaw’s house in Coalwood , WV.
Our visits produced quite a ritual: Upon arrival , we were always greeted with loving hugs and kisses and a good, "old" smell to the house. Then Popaw, supported by his wooden, homemade stick cane, would make his way to the room where a huge wardrobe stood, hiding our orange, marshmallow, circus peanut candy, the peanut butter kisses and the Fleer's Dubble Bubble gum which was wrapped in waxy paper with a fortune written on it.
We would sometimes, spend weekends with them and we kids so enjoyed our time with them because we could go outside the house and wander around the nearby property, walking by a small creek that flowed from the mountains, enjoying the beauty of wildflowers, especially the Orange Jewelweed. On occasion, just beyond the hill and behind a fence, a cow would be moving in slow motion, grazing through the fresh, green grass.
So much to enjoy while we were there.
Thoughts of kinfolks and enjoying time with them, stirred my sentimental soul with memories that had me re-tracing my times around our grandparent’s house. Particularly, I began to recall on one occasion of my red-haired, freckle faced, sister, Alma, and me at Momaw’s house in Coalwood. She and I were in the kitchen washing and drying dishes, we were young, but responsibility and respect for our elders was being taught. Our conversation drifted in to singing along with a hymn that came on the local radio station. We were introduced to the music of the church at an early age. Our voices were moving in harmony with the song until… I remember our laughter when we forgot some of the words; we laughed so hard, she with dishtowel fanning the air as I stood with hands in soapy dish water leaning over the sink to brace myself. Oh, how thankful I am for those times together.
Once the kitchen was cleaned, we could go outdoors, sit in the swing on the porch and in summer watch the Lightning bugs fill the darkness around us. As the night slowly filled in the sky above, we enjoyed a light show, unsurpassed in presentation for an audience of two. We could easily trace the flickering from the grass on the lawn to the branches in the trees. What joy was found in those moments. Joy that cannot be replicated because it became an enduring deposit on my heart.
Childhood. Sisters. Memory-making. Engaging in creative play, sharing our dolls, playing with paper dolls or listening to the radio as we worked in these mountains that we shared and enjoyed.
These reflections mirror a love from my heart for my sister, the dearest friend from childhood.
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