favorite grandchild

Why it’s good to revisit the past


I was born in the south-Arkansas to be exact.


When I was three my parents moved to Michigan.  I’ve made many trips back over the years to visit aunts and cousins. Others have moved away. My aunts who once lived there have passed away. I miss them. They were an important part of my life.

But the person I miss the most is my grandmother.  She died at the age of one hundred three. She was never sick a day in her life. Never suffered arthritis or even had sore joints. This is quite remarkable as she was the hardest working woman I’ve ever known and certainly overused her joints over the years. We’re talking hard physical labor. Plowing and planting fields of cotton and vegetables. Picking the crops. Canning. Quilting. You name it, my grandmother did it.


I was her favorite grandchild. (Of course, that was only two weeks out of the  year which is probably why my cousins didn’t hold it against me.)

favorite grandchild

My grandmother was sure when my parents moved us “up north” I would freeze to death.

When we had to leave after our annual two weeks at her house, I cried hard for miles. I remember the heartbreak I felt when we drove away as vividly as if it were yesterday.

It’s good to visit the past.

I remember splashing in the muddy creek and walking down the gravel roads kicking up stones. (I still love walking on country roads.) I remember how my Grandmother smeared butter all over freshly baked chocolate cake. You should try it. It’s amazing. (By the way, she never had high cholesterol.) I remember how she thought I could do no wrong. Who wouldn’t be sad having to leave all that behind?

But I did have one flaw.  I was too skinny. She made me eat garlic to rectify that situation. She was sure the “Frigid North” had ruined my health.

Memories from a very small period in my life and yet they still influence how I behave.  My Southern heritage guarantees that I never leave the house without my make-up on and looking as good as I can. Southern women are feminine to the core. I’m glad for that. It has served me well.

Not all memories were good, but memories, good and bad, are only memories. And that’ s good to remember.  (wink, wink)




wink, wink

Looking at the past can be a healing process. We are not captive to our memories. However strong they are, they only have the power to hurt us that we give them.

Depression-prone people often give the past more power than they should.

They see the past as a harbinger of the future.

It isn’t.

The past is already past. The future is in the future. I mean if we really grasped the truth of those two simple statements, the possibilities in our life would be limitless. But it requires shutting the door on past pain and moving forward taking the along the lessons we’ve learned. Easier said than done for sure.

Learn from the past but keep moving to the future.

God bless you on this New Year’s Eve.