While I'm writing stories for this blog I'm also working on a larger story about our family. This is what my mother wanted me to do, and it's why she spent so much time dredging up her memories, some of which were painful to her.
Right now I'm working on a chapter about Jim's mother, or "Mamma." Jim's life and those of her other siblings too, were largely shaped by their mother's influence. Jim said to me once, "Mamma was my moral compass."
I found a scrap of paper among Jim's keepsakes entitled "My Creed." It was in Mamma's handwriting.
My creed in life is to be independant. & not be any trouble to any one. Be good to animals. such as Birds, Squirrels, & doggs. I like children. I love art. & flowers. love friends. I've just finished reading The Case of the Velvet Claugh by Earl Stanley Gardner.
And that's just how Mamma was. I don't think anyone could improve on her own description of herself.
Mamma spent most of her childhood, from the age of about seven until she was eleven, on a farm near Palmer Station, Arkansas. Mamma was like Jim in that she could remember vividly details from her past, and she especially loved to tell stories about Arkansas. Jim said, "We were always trying to get Mamma to tell us stories about her childhood."
All of Mamma's children were devoted to her. Every summer Jim's younger sister Oteka would drive up to Pauls Valley from Texas with her younger son Steve, and they would spend a couple of weeks there with Mamma. Of course while they were there the rest of us would go down to visit also. In the summer of 1958 Aunt Oteka and Steve made their usual trip to Pauls Valley, but this year they had a special plan. They were going to take Mamma to Palmer Station, Arkansas, her childhood home.
Mamma was excited about the trip. She wanted to find her father's farm, her older sister Cora's home - Cora was married while they lived there - and she wanted to see if she could find any descendents of the old pioneers she remembered. Mamma was anxious to visit the cemetery to look for the graves of her brother Luther and her sister Eula who had died there. Last but not least, she wanted to take some plants back with her to Pauls Valley that would remind her of Arkansas, like Jack-in-the-pulpits, blackberries, and paw paws.
So Mamma made arrangements with Uncle Haskell to feed her chickens, her dog Spot, and her parakeet, and after she made sure the gas was turned off, the little group left for Palmer Station. When they arrived they discovered there was no longer a town there, just a fork in the road with a couple of houses, so they got rooms at a motel in nearby Searcy and started asking around to locate land marks and old timers. The landmarks Mamma remembered, like houses, big trees and hills, were either long gone or impossible to identify. They did find an old cemetery that might have contained Luther and Eula's graves, but there were no identifiable markers.
Nothing, howeve, could dampen Mamma's enthusiasm. She talked to everyone she met, asking about the old houses, the old cemetery and the old pioneers. Steve said that she filled their trunk with plants. Mamma would see a plant at the side of the road and yell for Oteka to stop. Then they would all get out of the car and wade through the bushes to get to the plant that Mamma wanted. Steve said that one time Mamma disturbed a snake with her shovel, causing the little party to high tail it back to the car while the snake slithered off into the grass.
To me the best thing about the trip was how it pleased Mamma to be 'home' again. Here is a letter that she wrote to Oteka shortly after returning to Pauls Valley. You can just feel the excitement in her words as her memories of Arkansas gush forth.
Dear Oteka,
it is going to rain. but the Birds are singing. & I have put feed out for them & fed my pets in the House. My Pidgeons on my Porch are a pare, because one crokes & the other does not. it is so cloudy and damp. I hope it will save my Ark Rose bushes. I am glad I got to go back to Palmer Station I must have been tirable happy there. I don't believe that we were on the rite place where Eula was Burried they have changed those Roads & I don't believe that we were far enough out. they had Country Roads & not verry good ones at that. we went to Mr Scruses grave all rite the House that Sister Cora lived in, also. but I think Papas place was on the opside (opposite?) Side of the road. that is still a cotton country. some day if I live I am going back. this was a flying visit. it sure made old memories come alive. in early spring will be a good time to go. Haskell is just as anxious as I am. I would have to be there several days because things have changed and people have passed away. but that old cypress will remain the same. Henry Morris who married Sister Cora was born & raised in Marvil & his people are burried there. I love those first memories. Sister Cora lived in Hide Park & Kittie Staid with her & went to School at Hide Park. & I was alway jellous because I did (not?) Get to go there to. Papa had a Friend by name of Fitzpatric who lived in Helena. he is the (one?) Who sent me the little Bantam Chickens. we also had a little dog. I think that he was lost & came to our House. his master had died & Papa sent little Forkerberry to the mans wife & we cride kissed little Forkerberry goodbye.
No comments:
Post a Comment