Memories

Looking back at the all too short of a time I got to spend with my grandmother, she taught me some of the most valuable morals that I carry with me still today. At the time they were not decisions that I believed were acceptable. She then walked over to the worn beat up shed were she would sit down on a dirty old stool next to a huge stump of what used to be a tree. At the time they were not decisions that I believed were acceptable. My grandmother went on running the farm by herself another ten years before her death. Quietly and swiftly, she’d place the helpless chicken across the stump placing the neck outstretched. As I remained the youngest of the many of my cousins at the farm that summer, my tasks included feeding the cats, helping with dishes, and pretty much trying to stay out of as much trouble as I possibly could. The distance ended up being too great, as my grandpa died in the car. The smell of the freshly cooked sugar or glazed donuts was enough to drive anyone out of their deep sleep. My uncles would come home to help with the planting and harvesting seasons, as well as lambing season.