Precious Memories by Cindy Hester

I awoke, a peaceful quiet surrounding my dreams. The only audible sound came from the whirring of the box fan at the foot of my pallet. I don’t know why I sleep so well to the sound of a fan. Perhaps it is because the house I lived in growing up had an attic fan cooling those hot summer nights. Or possibly it has something to do with the countless  naps taken at my grandparent’s homes in front of metal-bladed oscillating fans. All I know is I carry my box fan wherever I go…winter or summer…Hyatt Regency or Motel 6.

Slipping into my houseshoes I made my way to the kitchen of the one-room cabin seeking a cup of coffee to ease my way into the day. I looked around the room that a short week before echoed with laughter and was permeated with the scent of Christmas. It is amazing how events of the present so quickly become memories of the past. Relishing that thought, I made my way over to the recliner in front of the large windows facing the pasture. I became enamoured with the beauty of the morning mist floating over the hillside. The movement of a red bird over by the old persimmon tree caught my eye, and I watched as it flitted and danced from limb to limb perfectly content to be alive. The warmth of the steam in my coffee cup made its way to my lips, and I slowly relaxed deep into the comfort of the recliner. I allowed my mind to wander back to memories of Christmases past.

Within seconds the recliner was replaced in my mind with a green naugahyde rocker, most likely bought in the 1950’s. My feet barely dangled off the edge as I rocked with all of my might attempting to make the rocker go back as far as possible without turning over. Maw Maw Hood’s tiled floors were polished reflecting the shimmer of lights and silver icicles hanging from the Christmas tree. The smells of the fresh tree mixed with pies and the welcoming fragrance of pine kindling smoldering as Paw Paw started a warm fire in the fireplace were comforting beyond compare.

Melody and I were the only grandbabies at the time, and Paw Paw Hood treated us like royalty. Although he was known to be a little gruff when it came to work or his cattle, when it came to us girls he melted like butter. During the day while Paw Paw was working, we were helping Maw Maw feed the chickens or watching her churn butter on the front steps of the old place. Every so often we would get in a game of Go Fish with her. However, at the end of the day when the chores were done, it was Paw Paw Hood’s footsteps we followed. I loved that man dearly. To this day I can feel the starch in his collar and the slight scratch whiskers whenever he picked me up to give me a hug and swirl me around as I giggled the whole time.

Long before we were ready dinner was over. Soon after, my sister and I found ourselves in our flannel pajamas having said our goodnight prayers and sinking deep into the feather mattress in Paw Paw Hood’s four poster bed. We lay there staring at the ceiling weighted down by warm, heavy quilts. We competed to see who could blow the biggest steam clouds resulting from our warm breath coming in contact with the cold air of the bedroom. The sounds of our giggling reached the living room, and Dad yelled out a warning that Santa was close to flying over the farm. We knew we could not be awake whenever he arrived or he may not be able to sneak our presents under the tree.

We got quiet, and the next thing I knew, Dad and Mom were waking us up with the news that Santa had made it down the chimney! We wanted to run into the living room, but Dad made us wait until he could get in place with the big old 8 mm movie camera (with lights that must have been as bright as the star of David!) Just as the anticipation became more than we could bear, the bedroom door swung open. There stood both sets of grandparents, my Aunt Judy, and our cousins Bonnie and Carolyn waiting with as much anticipation as we were experiencing. My eyes searched past all of the people to the tree where I saw toys and presents galore! I scooted around the tree in wonder to the empty glass of milk and the saucer of cookie crumbs. My hands shook at the thought that Santa himself had touched these items only a few hours before. Just then the sound of the four wheeler brought me back to the present.

What a precious blessing memories are. God knew how desperately we needed these connections to our past moments – moments we are creating every second of every day. My heart goes out to those who are dealing with the dreaded disease of Alzheimers. Please pray for someone today who is dealing with the disease either directly or through a family member. I have several friends whose parents are at different stages of the disease. It is heartbreaking to see them lose their loved one a little at at time to Alzheimers. I cannot imagine someone I love who is a part of my memories being here in body, but absent in mind.

“I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.” Philippians 1:3

Dear Lord,

Thank You for the ability to remember the good in our lives. Thank You also for Your power to cleanse and make new those things we would rather forget. Dear God, I pray for all I know who are unable to remember, or who have lost the precious ability to reminisce with those they love who were a part of their life story. Give their family members strength and peace. Thank You for the knowledge that You care for us and for the promise that although we will face trouble in this world, You have overcome the world, and You will see us throught whatever circumstance we face.

In Jesus precious name,

Published by cinderellascorner

Hello everyone. My name is Cindy Hester. I have a lot on my heart to share, much of which has already been posted on my site. I hope you will enjoy visiting that site as well as the blog info I share on WordPress. I have much life experience to share. I was reared in the loving home of an Aggie Baptist preacher and his beautiful bride, Gracie. I married at a young age to my high school sweetheart. As the result of an unhealthy, abusive relationship, I found myself to be a divorced mother of three teen and pre-teen children at the ripe old age of 35. I re-married four years later to a good man who was rearing his two children. I have been through the challenge of combining families, losing a precious father, and coming to grips with real issues of real children from divorced families. My faith has been tested and has not always come out on top at the moment. I have learned, however, there is a God who loves, cares, and understands all that I face, and He is not afraid to stand by my side in the midst of the storm. I love reminiscing about the past…a past that my children will never have access to due to the major swing in technological and social advances. I hope you enjoy these writings, and I pray you will find my subject matter worthwhile enough to purchase in books someday. Thank you for taking the time to hear what is on my mind. I hope it blesses you in some special way. Cindy Hester (aka Mom, Mommerella, Cinderella, Daughter, Wife, Sister, Friend, Co-Worker…)

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