Memories Frozen In Time

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Time can do a “number” on us. It can dim our wits and our hair turns from brunette to silver grey. It puts unwanted pounds on our bodies and wrinkles bring on every health issue under the sun. The old folks used a little humor in getting older. They said we have one foot on a banana peel and the other one in the grave. But, getting older should not be so dramatic when we can close our eyes and shut out the hustle and bustle of modern life, filled with technology, cellphones and computers that rule our daily life. As long as we have our special memories from the past – which are frozen in time – we can always go back to an innocent and simpler time when life flowed smoothly through humanity at a slower pace.

Many of us lived in towns or communities that had only one traffic light, or perhaps none at all. If you blinked your eyes, you would go through the town without realizing it.

So, that was a lesson learned in itself. “Just slow down and feel the warm, Georgia sun on your face and the wind in your hair,” was the lesson learned here.

Every town had an ice cream store or candy shop. Barefoot, eager children leaned on the penny candy display picking out their favorite one cent candy pieces while at the ice cream shop, an ice cream cone filled with two scoops of tutti-fruity ice cream was the special of the day, at the cost of only a nickel per cone.

Every town had a Methodist and Baptist Church, which was always separate in their beliefs which no one could tell you the difference. Sometimes, dinner on the ground brought these hungry folks together.

There was always a shaded downtown area with a loafer bench where menfolk could argue over local and national politics which never reached an agreeable conclusion but when all else failed, they could bring out the old, trusty checkerboard and settle their differences with a game.

There were long, unpaved country roads with a cool canopy of green tree limbs darting out over the road, giving walkers relief from the scorching Georgia heat.

Old barns and abandoned family homes doted the landscape with cotton pickers wiping the sweat form their faces and moving on down the cotton row, anticipating weigh up time and getting their pay on Friday.

After sundown, weigh up was completed. The menfolk returned home and took a needed bath in the number 2 washtub with cold well-drawn water from behind the house and then headed to the kitchen.

Mama, in her thin, cotton dress, was setting the table. A large bowl of fresh butterbeans seasoned with fatback and a platter of crispy fried chicken was the first to grace he table. Fried okra and squash added a colorful glow to the long, country table. Thinly sliced cucumbers and pickled onions added a little zest and spice to the feast and there was always large, buttermilk biscuits and soft cornbread along with daddy’s sweet tea to seal the deal.

After supper, most country people headed to the front porch to catch a cool breeze as night rolled in. The stars were out and the moon hid behind a ghostly, shrouded, dark bank of clouds. On a night like this, daddy’s ghost stories were even more believable, but tonight we just took in the silence and admired the awesome expanse of the heavens. Sometimes, silence can convey more wisdom than words can ever say.

The chickens had gone to roost but would be awakened by the early morning call of the rooster. The fireflies were now far off in the distance, and the hoot of the owl had dried away with the last sweep of wind across the long, front porch.

The family went inside with baby sister in daddy’s arms. Tomorrow would be another summer day, going barefoot and picking blackberries and wild plums for the children who were always learning from Mother Nature’s infinite wisdom.

But, for now, the soft feather beds were awaiting. The heat would hold on for another hour until the unmistakable sound of raindrops fell on the tin roof and soothed the family into a deep slumber.

Years would pass as this everyday routine of life rolled on in the country. Somethings never change and time will never extinguish: “Memories frozen in time.”