In Winston Salem

I'm in Winston. All of the times I've been here have been joyous occassions, save 4...when Grandma Spaugh died, when Uncle Steve died, when Papaw was hospitalized (with heart issues I think) and was pretending that he was fixing food...and I took it from him, saying "thank you for fixing my sandwich, Papaw!" (he looked at me like he did when I was a kid and had done something he wanted to smack me for), and when we buried him. I was hurt all of those times. My Papaw was the only Papaw I've ever known. He was funny, strict, and traditional...the typical Navy man, I suppose. Well, maybe not in this society anymore, but in short, he was the best Papaw, EVER.

I'm in Winston. The majority of my memories of being here are so comforting. When I was a kid, I saw my Grandparents anywhere from 4-6 times a year (they lived a distance away). That increased as I grew older. I remember visiting for a month in the summer, a few times, even. Papaw used to pay me to mow the yard, when I visited during the summer. And Grandma always bought me new shoes. Papaw cooked sausage and baked biscuits (the wimpy canned kind) on Saturday mornings, and Grandma talked & laughed her way through the memories we'd made in the past and made plans for future ones. Papaw watched football and Grandma went antiquing. Papaw fell asleep in his chair on Saturday afternoons, listening to big band music. Grandma drifted off while reading a book.

I'm in Winston...and it's July 31st, 2010. And my Ma (as my children call her) is battling cancer. Right now, she's sleeping. But when she has an awake moment, I crawl up on her bed and talk. We talk about little things here and there. Politics...casey (her dog)...a little of nothing...a little of something. She's not very comfortable right now. She's tired a lot. But, she would be, considering the side effects of the radiation treatments she's had. I'm not disappointed. I'm truly amazed at how quickly our lives have flown by. She's made such an impact on my life. A comforting impact. One full of so many funny memories.

Lola Ruth is really very good at recounting the funny memories, too. I could listen to the same recount of funny memories over and over again...and have! It's like hanging on to your favorite book because you don't grow tired of the story, and the funny parts are always funny...and comforting. None of that on this visit, but it's been part of my very blessed childhood, and I treasure that.

I could go on and on...

But my Aunt Debbie just came in. And I'm going to talk to her.

And make more memories.