Recently my childhood home, the place that shaped my childhood, The Ranch, has sold. I don't know if I believe it or if I ever will. For though it is a piece of my Mom I am losing, it is even more a piece of myself.
Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago, I am not sure I want to share it, but I feel it says how I feel about that home in mountains than anything else could. I am not a writer and don't really have a "flow" with words so to speak, so please excuse my many mistakes.
When I was young and oh so free,
I lived in peace and harmony.
Suntanned and dirty, I played till dark,
Riding the four-wheeler, I would reluctantly park.
Ever watchful of what might impair,
Of rattlesnakes and cougars we looked with care.
I could be a “cowboy” all day,
“Riding the Range” to pass the time away.
Apples, plums, sunflowers and pine,
Oh how in the sun we’d all repine!
Summer days we languished till the fall;
Bathing in the river, with fishies and all!
Then came the cold and a fire we’d start,
We little’s would roll newspaper with all our heart.
Food was special up on that “hill”,
And how we always ate our fill!
Snacks of fudge and “ice cream” snow,
Then to bed, to bed we would quickly go!
Then one day everything ended,
No more “cowboys” or fences mended.
Mama got sick and “goodbyes” were said,
The Ranch and my old life have been put to bed.
Mama is gone and oh how I miss,
Her laughter, her joy and her sweet, sweet kiss.
She left this world and things are no more,
The way they once were before.
So I hold onto these my childhood days,
And pray that my children may know these ways.
Of bathing with fishies all the summer till fall,
Sunflowers, apples, plums and all!
Honestly, that time in my life, those first few years, were like a fairy-tale. I could never describe the whole of it, the magical feeling, the peace, or joy. I had a childhood unlike anyone else I know, besides a few of my siblings perhaps. Those days were before Mom got sick, when she was healthy still and that is where I remember her. There in the kitchen, making apple pie, or trying out the old woodstove.
Those were the most precious days of my life.