THURSDAY THOUGHTS: THE GOOD OL' DAYS

To say that today was beautiful would be an understatement. 

I'm glad that I went out, took a walk, and even browsed in a few stores. 

While in one store, I saw packages of old-fashioned ginger snaps. I had no plans to buy cookies today, but they reminded me of the story my Dad told my daughter and me on Easter Sunday. 

He was talking about his grandfather. I learned that my great-grandfather was a straw boss on a plantation, wore overalls most of the time, walked around with an 8-plait whip flung over his shoulder, and could make mules "behave". 

He must have been an expert with that whip to be able to crack it and sting a mule on the back of its ear. 

According to Daddy, his grandfather talked to the mules. "Come on now. Get it together", he would warn them. 

"Those mules would do whatever he told them", Daddy said. 

Apparently, when it came to people, my great-grandfather was a man of few words. 

"I never heard him say 'Good Morning', 'Hi, How're you doing', 'Hello'. Nothing. 

He'd just raise his arm and say "Ay hah!" 

Daddy said he still doesn't know what that means, but he knew that his grandfather loved him, and that was all that mattered.

My Dad is 83 years old, but there was a twinkle in his eye like a little child's as he talked about his grandfather. 

"He used to take me to the store and sit me on a big rice sack." 

Daddy extended his arms to demonstrate just how huge the sacks were. 

"He would buy me a gingerbread plank and a strawberry soda. That's why I like strawberry soda so much! He told me that he put me on the sack so I would 'stay out the people's way', and I would just sit there and enjoy myself. I would be full! To me, those were the good ol' days. 

I don't know what other people are talking about when they say 'the good ol' days'. That was it for me". 

He talked about his time in the Navy, how much he loved fishing in Massachusetts and on the bayou in Louisiana, the grocery store he used to own, (and how it burned down because of a faulty kerosene heater), and the best way to use the dried shrimp he was giving to me. He said all I needed was some okra, tomato sauce and rice, and I had a meal. 

The recipe was only too familiar. 

It's what Mommy used to make sometimes.

I laugh now when I find myself reminiscing about things. 

I remember when I used to think that anyone 30 years old was really old. 

Consequently I thought that anyone almost 50 years of age, like me, was as old as dirt's grandmother.

Seeing so many former students a few weeks ago, all grown up, and with their own children in tow, was a huge memory trigger. 

Trying to struggle through music the other day that someone assured me was "dope" (but it sounded more like the person who created it was ON dope) made me deliberately find something more "my speed". 

I remembered when people paid more attention to what a listener's ears would hear, as opposed to what their eyes would see. 

Choosing something I already owned to wear to church on Easter Sunday, only reminded me of my late Mother's annual effort to sew new dresses, and shop for new accessories for me and my sisters.

Being startled by the "Good Morning" of a total stranger, as he walked down the hill, reminded me that at one time, there was nothing odd about people greeting each other out of sheer courtesy. 

An internet story about a child who smashed his iphone, and is seeking to sue his mother for invading his facebook privacy, reminded me that when I was little, I had no privacy to speak of, nor did I need any. I was a child, whose existence was dependent upon the kindness, care and generosity of my parents. Had I purposely lost my mind and broken anything that either of my parents worked hard to pay for, I venture to think that typing might be a little difficult for me right now. Sue my parents? I don't even have a point of reference for that one...

I suppose everyone gets to a point when they start talking about the "good ol' days". 

It's usually when we're appalled, repelled, shocked, disappointed, confused, laughing hysterically about, or unwilling to conform to something new. Fortunately, thoughts of days gone by also come when something makes our hearts glad, and brings a smile to our faces.

I'm still listening to the rain now...or perhaps I'm listening to the sounds of everything else interacting with the rain. 

I'm glad it came. 

Everything outside had been blanketed with pollen, and I'd spoken to one to many persons who seemed to be hoarse, laboring to breathe, or singing the praises of their favorite decongestant or antihistamine. 

At some point late this afternoon, I just knew that all of the allergy sufferers would get some relief. 

You know. It's that feeling you get that rain is coming. It did get a little darker and cloudier, but nothing happened. 

I thought perhaps my instincts had been wrong. 

All of a sudden, not long after I was safely inside, the wind started blowing, and even the branches of bigger trees seemed to be bending beyond their usual limits. My first thought was of the farmhand in the earlier minutes of "The Wizard of Oz", screaming, "It's a twister!" 

I was glad that my daughter checked in to let me know that she was okay. 

My next thought was to see who was tweeting on twitter about the weather. (I definitely wouldn't have done that a year ago. Now it seems that "The News" gets the news from social networking sites just like the rest of us.) 

The National Weather Service reported a severe thunderstorm warning, but noted how swiftly the storm would be moving out of the area. It's long past 8:30, however, and it's still raining. I should have taken the ginger snaps to my Dad when I thought about it. 

Maybe tomorrow.

The wind has died down, so I opened a window. 

I love what the rain does to the air. 

It's so fresh and clean. 

Other than the sound of vehicles splashing along on the wet streets, it's peaceful--like the "good ol' days".