September 3, 2008 - Many early mornings, Maggie (my dog) and I spend time out on the balcony enjoying the cooler air of the day, watching the squirrels scampering about and just listening to the light breeze through the trees between here and the inner Bay. It is a time that always takes me back to my beginnings in Canton, Mississippi; a time when I spent many days in the country at my Grandmother Hill's home or to the summers I spent in Satartia, Mississippi at my Aunt Rosaline's farm (Dixie Farms).
I can recall these memories so vividly as I look out into the wooded areas behind our home. Although the leaves are just a temporary disguise for the Chesapeake Bay Canal some 30 yards or so behind our home, it makes me feel as if I am back in the country of Mississippi again. What great memories I have of these times, even though they were 40+ years ago.
My grandparents lived about 5 miles outside of Canton. I remember their home so well. It had a long front porch, with hedge bushes across the front. As you entered through the living room, the dining room was off to the right. However, going directly through the living room, you entered into the long hallway which took you to all the bedrooms. There were 4 of them, yet only one bathroom. Normal for those days.
There was a barn located just a small distance out from the back porch. This is where my Grandfather Frank Hill, Sr. spent most of his retirement days. He had made a career in the construction industry and was known for building many of the current antebellum homes in Canton today, along with some of the churches too. I still have an old newspaper article written about him and all his work around Canton and I cherish it to this day (Madison County Herald, July 1957).
My memories of Grandpa Hill take me back to him standing in the entrance of the barn. He was tall and lanky and always had on his hat. I can see him now smoking those Pal Mal cigarettes, with no filters! He would smoke them down to nothing and his fingertips were yellowish-orange from all the tobacco. Isn't it odd the little things we remember after all these years? He wasn't a man of many words to us grandchildren, but when he spoke, believe you me, we listened.
I will also never forget his death on December 10th, 1966. I was in the 4th grade. It was custom back then for the deceased to be taken to their home for viewing, rather than the modern day funeral home viewing. The casket was placed along the Dining Room wall, the very room we had eaten together as a family so many times before. This was my first ever experience with death in our family and seeing my Grandfather lying in that casket, in the Dining Room, was shocking to me! I looked, but I didn't get too darn close. As a matter of fact, I think I looked at him from the Living Room.... that was close enough for me. My mother never, ever viewed dead people. She always said that she preferred remembering them as they were alive, not dead. This was the first time I knew this of her and from that day forward, I always thought of it when attending a funeral.
Another thing I recall about my Grandparent's house was that the first bedroom on the left was Aunt Brenda's and at this time in my life, she was still in High School and was dating the most handsome guy any of us cousins had ever seen. His name was (is) Milton Stamper. Lucky for us, occasionally we got to hide in her bedroom and peak through the curtains at night when Milton would bring her home from a date. We would watch him kiss her goodnight and just giggle and giggle as little kids would do. We thought that was just the funniest thing! You can only imagine how excited we were when he asked her to marry him. It made our year.
Then there are mornings back here in Baltimore, when I have been out on the balcony with fresh corn I have purchased at the local farmers market. As I begin shucking it, I immediately think of my days at Dixie Farms, in Satartia, Mississippi. Aunt Rosaline always had a big garden full of every kind of vegetable imaginable and we all pitched in to help pick the corn AND get it ready for cooking, canning, freezing or whatever she needed.
I loved these times! They were fun times and some of the best life experiences I could ever have gotten anywhere. Aunt Rosaline was a fantastic cook. OH MY GOSH! No matter how hard we worked and played all day, she fed us good. And to top it off, she made the absolute best lemon meraigne pie of any I had ever had. She is the reason I am addicted to that pie today!!! Shame on you, Aunt Rosaline, but bless you at the same time! Makes me hungry just thinking about that delicious pie.
I love these quiet times on my balcony and reminiscing of my past and growing up in Mississippi. I have so many fond memories of my childhood and my family. They seem to pop up at the oddest of times, yet they always bring a smile to my face. I can only hope that old age doesn't deprive me of these memories any sooner than is necessary. Moreso, I hope that the blogging of my life and my past can someday bring a smile to a family member's face, like so many of our old family letters have done for me, when I've run across them over the years. This is a large part of my wanting to blog and journal. I feel it is important that my children and grandchildren and even generations beyond, get to know me through my thoughts and words. Life is not just about living, but expressing your thoughts through words in any avenue you choose.
THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "Life must be lived with love and humor; Love to understand and humor to endure all the ups and downs."
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