Throughout my life there have been only a handful of places where I felt truely comfortable. Not just welcomed, but an actual piece to the puzzle, an integral part of the whole. A feeling as if, during it's creation, the creator thought of me.
One of those places was the farm on which I grew up. The creek that ran through it sang me to peace many times. The killdeer that scurried about brought hours of laughter and enjoyment. The smell that is horse sweat, leather and sweet feed assail me still, when I have the courage to let my memory wander back that far.
A few short miles from my own personal heaven was another. It was the home of my Godparents, and my parents' best friends, the Peines.
As a young girl, I remember visiting their house of an evening with my parents. The ladies would converge in the living room, and the men would sit around the kitchen table and talk dogs, horses, and anything else that came to mind. The room was full of colorful phrases and booming laughter, hot coffee and cigarette smoke...and one small girl, sitting at her father's feet, or occasionally on his knee. This was my entertainment. To me, it was better than Ringling Brothers, the county fair or the school carnival. Attempts to entice me into the living room were ignored.
The ladies were boring!
The men....well...they had stories to tell. They also had mannerism and habits to which my mother prefer I not be exposed. "Get your feet off the table Tom Peine!" became such a catch phrase in our family, my oldest granddaughter actually asked me one day who he was. Apparently she had put her feet on her Mama's kitchen table, and when swatted for doing so, was admonished in the same way I had been during my own childhood!
Unfortunately, time takes us all captive. People die, farms are sold, your welcome grows cold...but the memories, oh how the memories remain....
Long after my father died, I went to visit his best friend on Memorial Day. I chose to do that over putting flowers on the grave that holds his earthly remians.
As we sat on the back porch silently enjoying the sunshine, Tom took a deep breath, squinted out over the field in front of us and said, "I sure do miss your daddy."
I whispered, "So do I."
He then began to smile, the smile turning into laughter as he spoke,
"Did I ever tell you about the time...."
This took me on my own journey back into time. Thank you for sharing this today!
ReplyDeleteDiana Nuchols
It's funny how sounds and smells will aid us in our quest to remember our families. My father and grandfather were mechanics and I grew up playing in their garage that they ran as partners. The greasy smell of oil and the pungent smell of REAL gasoline and exhaust fumes are elements that switch on my childhood memories. All I need is to get a whiff of these smells, along with the Red Man tobacco that my granddad chewed, and I can feel his arms around me as he would pick me up and give me a hug. My father always smelled of diesel fuel, diesel engines being his specialty. Most people find it offensive, but to me, it takes me back to my childhood and the memories of lost family members and good times. I wonder if they'll smell that way in Heaven? Nice blog, thank you!
ReplyDeleteI don't know how they will smell, but I do know that when I get there, my dad had better get down off MY horse! (We always argued over whose horse it was!)
DeleteJust the name Peine brings a smile to my face. Tom and Jean had this way of talking that made you listen to every word they spoke. Tom still has it. Tish (Pat) had that same way of weaving a story that drew you in at the beginning word. So
ReplyDeletedid Kentuck or Hooker...my biggest regret is that I didn't sit under the table with Deb and pay attention, but Tish and I were in the bedroom talking about good looking boys...so thankful to you Deb for the gift of words and memory you have inherited. What wonderful memories we have and can share.
two stories come to mind immediately. One about dad buying a sulky cart, and when Old Jim pulled it, the back fell off and Dad and Tom went flying. The other was when they had bought a horse, that had a bad disposition, arthritis and was a little too long in the tooth...
DeleteDad hoo-dooed a fella into buying it by talkin' up how goooood he looked on that horse! Tom asked dad if he had revealed all the horses issues. Dad replied he had. Tom verbalized his doubts about that and dad's reply was priceless....
"When I walked out here, that old horse was a-laying on the ground. I kicked at him and said 'get up you stiff old son of a **^*&^' if he didn't hear me, that's not my fault"
50 years later...I think it's safe to tell! lol