From the category archives:

Memories

Snippets: Unsweet Tea

by Megan on October 22, 2010

My Pawpaw was a hard worker. He usually arrived home around seven or later, and Granny always had a plate from dinner in the oven, keeping it warm for him. Pawpaw was my absolute favorite man in the world (alongside my Dad, but since they were father and son, I figured they were allowed to be equal). I looked forward to the moment I would see him coming down their long driveway. I waited patiently by the window, watching for his car. As soon as I caught a glimpse of it, I’d run to the kitchen and get him a glass of unsweet tea (his favorite). I’d help Granny put his plate at his spot at the table, and I’d put his giant cup of unsweet tea and the daily newspaper there as well. I waited for him to walk through the door, and I immediately hugged him. He always walked to his bedroom first to remove his work shirt, and he’d pull his glasses from his pocket and sit at his chair to read his paper while he ate dinner.

I waited while he read his paper, excited for him to finish so that I could tell him about my day, and I could hear about his. It was my absolute favorite time of day, and I look back on it with fondness. I followed this routine until we moved away (we had lived next door to them), and even then, I’d look forward to the evenings that we took trips to their house so I could follow the routine all over again.

I’d love to make him a big glass of unsweet tea today.

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Where I’ve Lived

by Megan on September 27, 2010

I saw Doni’s post on the places she has lived throughout her life, and I thought I’d do something similar. Unlike my husband, I haven’t lived in the same place my entire life, and I believe my homes have shaped the person I am today.

Shady Hills, Florida. This is in Pasco County, not too far from Tampa. I lived here for less than the first two years of my life, so I don’t exactly remember it. (I was actually born in New Port Richey, Florida and then flown Gainesville, Florida because I was six weeks premature; I actually spent the first month of my life at Shands Hospital in the NICU.)

Fort Riley, Kansas. My dad was in the army (he was in Desert Storm), and we were stationed in Kansas. (I think we lived in multiple places in Kansas, but this is the place I remember most.) My sister was born here, so I know I wasn’t even two years old. I remember it snowing once, I think. I also remember always playing with a girl named Britney. Since I was so young, they’re vague memories.

Shady Hills, Florida. We moved back to Shady Hills when Dad got out of the army. I know we were here by the time I started pre-k at the age of four or five. This was my childhood home, and we lived right next door to my Granny & Pawpaw. When I write about childhood memories, this is where they took place.

Spring Hill, Florida. Located in Hernando County, Spring Hill is just the next city over from Shady Hills. We moved there when I was in the fifth grade, and I loved our house. In my bedroom, I had a “library nook” where I kept all of my books, and I had a “reading nook,” a little seat that looked over my front yard. Fifth and sixth grade were spent here.

Pikeville, Tennessee. As I was about to embark on my seventh grade year, my parents decided to move to Tennessee. I was devastated, but I’m so grateful for this decision now. I remember spending September 11, 2001 in Florida still, so it was sometime soon after that when we moved to Tennessee.

Dayton, Tennessee. My family decided to move here when I was in the ninth grade so that Dad would be closer to work. Dayton is where the Scopes Trial took place.

Shady Hills, Florida. I almost forgot this because I often block it from my memory. We went back to Florida right before my sophomore year of high school started. My Granny had been diagnosed with lung cancer, so Dad wanted to be close to her. I went to school at Hudson High School until February of my sophomore year, then we moved back to Tennessee.

Evensville, Tennessee. Just north of Dayton (in the same county, so I didn’t switch high schools); my family moved here after coming back from Florida. 

Spring City, Tennessee. Just north of Evensville (in the same county again, so I remained at the same high school). We moved here my senior year of high school. I started dating Husband while living here, and it’s where I turned eighteen.

Chattanooga, Tennessee. Just a few months after graduating, Husband and I moved to Chattanooga. We lived there from August 2007 to July 2008 (through our engagement and first month of marriage). We lived in a 2-bedroom apartment, and we had two different roommates over the course of our stay there.

Spring City, Tennessee. Such a small town, and this is where we reside now. We moved in with my in-laws in July 2008. In June 2009, we moved into our own house and have lived there since. Next summer, though? We might be moving back to Chattanooga to finish our schooling at a university.

Where have you lived over the course of your life?

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Florida

by Megan on August 13, 2010

I’ve lived in Tennessee since September of 2001. My parents moved us here on a bit of a whim. They sold our house and moved us to a very small town in east Tennessee. I felt as if my world had collapsed. I was leaving my friends, my family, everything I knew. I assumed that everyone in Tennessee would be toothless and uneducated. (Definitely NOT the case. Why does everyone assume that people from the south are uneducated?)

I’m from Florida. I was born there, and most of my family still lives there. It’s where my second home has always been–my Granny’s house–which I guess was always really my permanent home, since we moved around a lot. It’s a long story, but that house is no longer in our family. I miss it because there are so many memories in that house, but it wouldn’t be the same today, anyhow. That house held many Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. It held many tears and the sounds of joyous laughter. It held the memory of when Granny took me into her room and gave me a gold locket when I “became a woman” at the age of eleven. It holds the memory of when Pawpaw woke up early one winter morning to spray the trees with the water hose–so we, his grandchildren, could see icicles hanging from the trees. It was where I was when my parents brought my little brother home from the hospital. It was also the last place I saw Granny.

I’m going to Florida next week with Husband. Since we’ve been together, this will make our third time visiting my “home state.” We went once in January 2008 and again in January 2010. Sadly, this will probably be the third time I’ve visited Florida in about five years. I rarely see my extended family. The trip is a 10-hour drive, at least, and it’s hard to find time to make the trip.

Though I’ve grown to love Tennessee as my “home state” over the years, I have a special place in my heart for Florida. I love the warm weather; I enjoy the busy-ness of my old hometown; I adore seeing my family–aunts, uncles, cousins. I love that when I go back, even though I was only twelve when we left, I know my way around like I’ve been driving there my whole life–I can even see the roads in my head right now. I love seeing the changes, though I sort of hate it at the same time. Sometimes, when I go back, I’d like it to be as if I were stepping back into my childhood, but it’s really not.

On Monday morning, Husband and I will be making the 10-hour trip to my hometown. We’ll be there until Friday, and I’m mostly looking forward to taking trips to places of my childhood … But I’m also looking forward to accepting the new parts and relaxing a little bit.

Don’t worry; I’ll take my camera to show you around.

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Six Years

by Megan on August 6, 2010

“Even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do…” -Aerosmith

My granny, Nancy, found out she had cancer in May of 2004. On August 6, 2004, less than three months after her diagnosis, she took her last breath. Those three months consisted of emotions I didn’t know the human mind or body could convey. When I think back on my life, of life-changing moments for me–moments that completely changed the person I was–I can only think of those months.

It’s been six years since I saw her. It’s been six years and one day since I last spoke to her. I write about her often, but only in pieces. She is who makes up most of my favorite posts on this blog.

My granny was young when she died; she was in her fifties. At the time of her death, I was fifteen, and while I thought I knew everything, I knew absolutely nothing. I was selfish. In those three months, I went through periods of denial; I went through moments of determination–she was going to get through this; I went through moments of wanting her to die just so I could get on with my life. Like I said, I was fifteen, and I was selfish. I thought my entire world was shattering, but I failed to look on the outside. I failed to see how terrified my granny was. I failed to think of my dad, who was quickly losing his mother–the woman who gave him life. I failed to look into my pawpaw’s eyes and see the sadness that engulfed him because he knew he was losing his wife, his best friend. I only looked within, and I had rough moments.

It’s hard for me to recall a lot of how I felt in those three months, though I can remember what I felt when she did pass away. First, I felt relief. I was finally at a point where I wanted her to no longer feel pain, and I wanted to go through the healing process. Then, I felt anger at a god I wasn’t sure I believed in anymore. Then, I felt anger at myself for being so selfish. I soon felt intense sadness, and I didn’t know what life had to offer. I eventually found peace, but it took a long time. I’m not even exactly sure how long. I changed; I grew up. If you ask people close to me, they would tell you that I was a completely different person after that point in my life.

My granny was amazing woman. She was/is the most amazing woman I will know in my lifetime. She was opinionated, and everyone loved her. Everybody knew her as “Granny,” even if they weren’t related. She always had a table (and countertop) full of food at dinnertime, and there were always leftovers. She loved my pawpaw with an immense passion that I envy at times–I only hope I love Husband with that same passion. She loved him in a way a woman loves her husband after being with them since age seventeen. They were best friends, and when my pawpaw passed away eight months after Granny, I wasn’t surprised. He wanted to be with her, and that was their purpose in life.

Right before Granny died, she was happy. She was ready to go; she wanted the pain to be gone, and more importantly, she wanted to move on from this world on to a better place. Today, it’s a little easier, but I still miss her. I think about her daily, even if it’s just a passing thought, a fleeting memory. I plan on telling my children about her, and though I know I can never do her justice through my words, I will always continue to try.

It’s been six years since she took her last breath, but she’s still breathing.

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