I can't sleep lately. I wake up way too early in the morning and go to the bathroom. Then I can't doze off again. Either I can't get comfortable or my mind just won't stop racing. So I get up and go to the couch for a change of scenery or watch TV until I drift off.
Papaw's been gone for nearly 12 years. I miss him. Grandma moved to town a few years after he passed. Their home and land is someone else's now. I don't think about it much but when I do, like last night, I become sad. Those days are gone forever. But at least I remember them. And they're all good memories.
The house is pretty quiet at 5am. The refrigerator kicks off and on. But I always hear the clock in the kitchen. Tick, tock, tick tock, tick tock. And I'm taken back to my grandchildhood. See, I heard the clock ticking a lot at my grandma's house whether it was day or night. They didn't watch a lot of TV. There wasn't any music playing. It was pretty silent. Except for the clock.
We spent a lot of time doing "circle the word" puzzles, playing Chinese Checkers and blackjack with pennies. Papaw would teach me how to play the mandolin at night. Grandma would make me fried bologna sandwiches. Papaw would check his blood pressure. Grandma would let me use the ice crusher that hung on the wall in the kitchen.
I remember the nightlight in the room where I'd sleep when I stayed the night. The smell of the garage where Papaw worked on lawnmowers. The swing. The lemonade. The time I got into a nest of yellowjackets. The boys (my cousins) hunting every Thanksgiving, only coming into the house to eat then going back out again. The mushroom/toadstool cookie jar that I begged to dive into.
The pond. The woods. The Easter egg hunts. The chalkboard that hung on the wall in the back room where I would play waitress and write everyone's order down. The nights when I'd sleep with Grandma and Papaw and complain about Papaw's snoring. I remember the smell of the entire house. Luckily, I still have some of it, bottled up in Papaw's guitar case in my back closet.
Papaw's been gone for nearly 12 years. I miss him. Grandma moved to town a few years after he passed. Their home and land is someone else's now. I don't think about it much but when I do, like last night, I become sad. Those days are gone forever. But at least I remember them. And they're all good memories. 
2 comments:
This made me sad too. Cherish your memories. I cannot smell Clorox or Lestoil without thinking of my Grandmother.
You pregnant? The sleep, pee and mind racing thing happen to me early in pregnancy.
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