Remember when...

I want to hear stories. I want to hear about their childhoods and about the school days and chores and everything. After speaking to the ladies at the Care Center, then moving on to the Adult Day Care, I became really emotionally attached, even though I don't know these people.

I have been stricken with the loss of becoming attached to someone so dear, that when they lose their life, I don't know what to do afterwards. Since I was a baby and moved to South Carolina, I have lived in the same neighborhood for the past 18 years. You become to realize that everyone around you has there place and their stories. I just wish that I could have gotten those stories before I left.

From the time I could speak, my next door neighbor, Delcie Jernigan, was always my grandmother. I haven't seen my grandparents in years, so Delcie for the most part adopted me as her grandchild. As well as my brothers and sister. I always went to her house after school. When her real grandchildren left her behind, I was the one to go and sit and watch tv with her. The black and white tv in the living room was her favorite. She always watched the Lawerence Welk Show. I hated watching it. I had no interest in it. But she loved it. And she would tell me all the time about watching the shows. Then she would watch her soaps. I never cared for those either, but I loved to spend time with her. When she was sick, I would go help her get into bed or get her food. She was a little old lady. But everyone loved her. She would give me clothes and knick nacks, which I still have in my room. She was a one of a kind woman. Then she continuously would have problems with her health. First she couldn't walk, then she became really weak and couldn't hold her foods in. When it came to that time, my dad, who is an EMT, and myself went to visit her. Her family finally came to see her as well. Children, grandchildren and everyone. They all visited. Hoping it wouldn't be her last. But I knew it was coming. I said my last goodbye to her, not knowing when it would be, giving her and her family space. She gave me a hug even though she couldn't remember my name. As I walked out of the door, I started crying immensely. She was still alive, but I knew it was coming. That night, my dad got the call that she passed in her sleep. We never really talked about it but anytime I go past her house, I tear up. I wish I would have asked her about her childhood, her holidays, her schooling. I knew most, but I never found out everything I wanted to.

I've decided i'm going to change that. After Delcie died at the age of 96, I am going to take the time when I am home and go get stories. Just for my own use. Not for a class, not for a subject, but because I really am interested. Mr. Nelson, he lives down the road from me. He tells some stories. He always would give us 50 cents as we came by his house. He has really old cars. And he is still driving trucks across country. But he is getting to his age. Next time i'm at my house, I am going to sit and talk with him. I miss our talks. I miss Delcie. I miss being young and naive.

I talk to my grandparents weekly. I miss them alot. My grandmother is in remission from cancer. I never know if it is going to come back. She also has heart problems and diabetes. My grandpa works so hard that I am so proud of him. I'm ready to go to New Mexico and sit and talk to my grandparents. I will not let them grow old and not tell me all they know. I want their stories to continue.

They will continue...