It was Memorial Day 1995 when we moved into our house in the mountains of western North Carolina. Barry and I were excited, but I was also sad to leave our home we had built on the land deeded to me by my father and mother. We had carved a beautiful setting out of the woods. A large oak tree, like the one I had played under when I was a child, shaded the front of our redwood, modern house with glass enclosing the living and dining area. It was talked about by all our family and friends. One sister-in-law said she would like to have my house with her furniture in it. She had excellent taste and the money to buy good furniture so I imagine she would have made it into a show place.
We lived in that house for 25 years and made many memories. When we left it, the carpets still looked great and we had remodeled the kitchen which I loved. We changed the orange and green colors of the seventies to more neutral colors and the house was perfect. We had a built-in garbage compactor and a garbage disposal. Our large bedroom had a wall of windows with a view of woods as far as one could see. I awoke to birds singing in the trees.
My mother died in 1985 and my father followed her in 1988. For over ten years I was a caregiver for my beloved Mother and when she died, I felt I had failed her. I wasn't with her when she walked back to the house from Daddy's garden. Barbara, the housekeeper, had gone out to pick a watermelon because our aunt Judy was coming for a visit and she loved watermelon. Mother walked every day no matter how hot the weather. She collapsed as she reached the steps to the back door. She died instantly.
An era of my life ended that day. I realized I was finally and definitely grown up.
Now living with family here in Roswell, I am the most fortunate person.
For the past week, my niece has been seeing to my needs. I was to go to their house on Memorial Day, but was ill for two days. She and her caring husband brought dinner to me. My sister was out of town for a week, but Lee was very helpful and responsible for me. I am doing well.
As we age and our health begins to fail, our thoughts turn to who has been the most precious in our lives. So many people have influenced me and helped me through the passages of time. I wish I could see each one and tell them how much I love and appreciate them.
From childhood, I was loved and cherished by my mother, sisters, and some of my brothers. I had teachers who made me feel special. When my brothers and older sister married, more people came into my life who were special and supportive of me. Stan, my sister June's husband, was like a second father to me writing letters and encouraging me to stay in school at GSCW.
My little sister has said she admired me and tried to emulate me when we were kids. I did not know that. I was proud of her and her accomplishments in high school. I felt that she and I could do anything as long as we were together. And we usually did.
Now as the autumn of my life approaches, I must find new and different means of living and purpose to my days. I deal with health issues I never had before and they play a huge part in my activities each day. As I begin to drive again, I see possibilities of meeting new people and making friends here in the city that will be my final home. Acceptance is the answer. I know that, but some part of me still fights the inevitable.
I met an interesting woman, my age, at physical therapy, and we are very similar. She began her own business when she was sixty. I began my own business at the age of seventy. We talk often and find many common interests. She is from New York but moved down here years ago. Like me, her husband has died.
I am grateful that I am a people person and enjoy meeting strangers and learning about their lives. I guess this is why I love teaching older people who write about their family history. I have room in my class that starts this month. Hope we have a good group and have fun like we usually do.
Dear Readers, have a good summer. Be safe and stay healthy.
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