The other day I was in a conversation with my father in law (Ben) about Peggy (my mother in law) making Aurelia some dresses. It reminded me of all the times my grandmother would make me dresses with pinafores and jumpers, etc. When asked where I got them, I would pat the outfit and say "Mawmaw made it!" proudly. That same evening, I watched a little video on a distant cousin's Facebook page that traveled my road in my hometown at least a good twenty years ago.... it evoked such memories that I had strong dreams that night.
I dreamed about and could smell the sausage and gravy cooking in my grandmother Helen's kitchen while all the sisters (my mom and aunts... there are many) played spoons on that table....together and laughing.
I dreamed of drinks of water out of Anna Mae's metal pitcher from the refrigerator in her kitchen, such an old, but reliable appliance. That water was SO cold and I could never get enough. The only rival in my memory was great grandma Stella's well water with a metal ladle....
I dreamed of the feel of grandma Aurelia's braided rugs under my toes. Of the smell of the tanned hide that served as a drape across the sunporches leather sofa. The settling softness of her hugs and the smell of granpa Charlie's aftershave.
Into my dreams, wafted the aroma of papa Elvin's cigar. The smell of his "candy", when he would mix peanut butter and syrup together. The insulin shots he would give himself after. The smell of diesel and oil and machinery on his hands. The sound of him teasing us about belonging to the Shinn's.
The smell of my grandma Frances' fabric shop. The sound of her machine whizzing along and the radio tuned to 58 WCHS talk radio with Dr. Dean Adell. Knowing she would have peanut butter and crackers in the little fridge in the back. Her Mary Kay lipstick samples in the bathroom are likely what led me to never wear makeup.
The smell of the wood burning in the cast iron buck stove that warmed our house. The sound of the spring that ran in the back corner of the house. The feel of the sun on my hair as I watched my mom and Anna Mae in the garden. Anna Mae always made me chocolate cake, because she knew it was my favorite.
The smell of Windex and newspaper when I would clean my granmda Frances's mirrors and table tops and straighten her collections of Wild Wonderful West Virginia magazines. The sound of the her sitting room television battling to override Papaw Elvin's television in the living room set on volume level 4,000.
Fighting with my brother so furiously that we were sent to our rooms, then climbing into my closet so that we could talk through the adjoining wall. I believe those arguments could have been over whether Buck Rogers or the Dukes of Hazard and who was going to watch which on our single television.
The sound of my mother singing "Consider the Lilies" in the car. My father and his rendition of Be Bop a Lula in his silly moments.
All these things... and so many more...
