Part 2--Trip Down Memory Lane

Its been said and I agree that we are as human beings the sum total of our experiences and memories. Our memories make us almost more than our genes as they give our lives meaning. We become what we have seen, done, tasted, etc...if that makes any sense. But this is how I feel about my memories and "going to Grandpa's." I knew that this place in the country that I'd loved growing up would be changed. The road you turn onto to get to the house is now paved, and the old farmhouse that my Grandfather lived in for many, many years is gone and there are a few homes that have been built. The barnyard has changed. There used to be an old barn and a corn-crib; they've been torn down and replaced. The pine trees that surrounded the barnyard are gone too. However, this view which is the one we used to see from the front porch seemed to me very much the same. My Grandfather loved trees! Around the old farmhouse there were pecan, walnut and oak trees that were over 100 years old. There was one tree that was Grandpa's pride and joy, and that was a Mimosa tree. We were allowed to climb any tree that we wanted, however, climbing the Mimosa tree was forbidden! The words from 40+ years ago of him telling us many (many!) times "that you can't climb on my Mimosa" are as vivid in my mind if they'd been said yesterday. Its smooth soft branches and delicate pink blooms were really lovely and may not have withstood the weight of kids climbing on it.
On Monday when I pulled up to where the house used to stand, the first thing I saw was a Mimosa tree. I couldn't help but be taken by that because there were hummingbirds around and one sat on a branch nearby. As I looked around there were several other Mimosa trees growing too. I wondered how Grandpa would feel knowing that there was a new generation of Mimosa trees growing from the single tree from so many years ago. As I looked at the rest of the property I could pick out the direction we used to take to get to the creek and the woods. A little ways down the road at this corner I knew that the road led to the creek where we used to wade so I decided to drive down it.

I had the dogs with me and once at the creek I let them out to wade.

While I couldn't find them, I am relatively sure that this tree is the one where my siblings and I once carved our initials. The one lane road leading to the creek left no room for me to turn around so I decided I that I would drive up the road to find a place. I found a driveway and turned into it. Sitting in the yard in lawn chairs under a tree were two men probably in their 70's drinking their morning coffee. Both were clean-shaven and one wore faded overalls with a red hat. The other had on dark faded blue work pants with an old light blue shirt with his name on it and a green hat. Sitting in between them tied up was a hound dog. Of course they eyed me suspiciously--I suppose a gray haired lady in a van with Virginia license plates and a Golden Retriever in the front seat doesn't pull into their driveway everyday. The man in the work clothes stood up and walked towards me. I got a glimpse of the name "Sammy" on his shirt and realized he was someone that used to work for my Grandfather and someone that I had worked with when I packed for a moving company in college. What are the chances of that??!! The other man could be no one else but his brother Leroy. I told them who I was and of course they remembered me and my family. Sammy and Leroy are confirmed bachelors partly because I think were just too shy to talk to women--This really hadn't changed as Leroy hardly made eye contact with me when he talked and sat there trimming his fingernails with his pocket knife and petting the dog. It was a nice visit and I left saying a prayer of thanks that none of this ended like something out of the movie "Deliverance!" I just wish I'd thought to get a picture of them--You'll just have to use your imagination.

On my way back from the creek I again stopped where the house had been and remembered one more time...I decided that I really wanted a Mimosa Tree, but I couldn't find one small enough to dig up, so I settled for seedpods instead.
My last stop would be the small cemetery where my Grand Parents and other family members are buried. When I got there I wasn't really sure where to start looking but as I stood there trying to decide I noticed a big Mimosa tree that was near where I was standing. One of its branches was hanging over a headstone and underneath the shade of this beautiful tree was the headstone of my Grandparents. I was so touched to see this because it could not be a more perfect final resting place. As I drove back home it occurred to me that we all need our memories and our roots. Without them we are incomplete. And from my trip to Short Creek I realized that my memories and my roots and who I am is partly found in and under a Mimosa tree.