Ain't time a funny thing? It seems to have sped up for me, the older I get. For younger people, it seems to stretch out longer than it is.
Talking with one of the younger family members a while back, they made an observation about "old folks" always talking about "slavery time things". The conversation was about food. I was explaining about "hoe cakes" coming about when slaves (and other poor people) would cook the flour or cornmeal "cake" in a hoe held over hot coals or a fire.
I wasn't mad about the remark because we joke around like that in my family. I was struck (as I sometimes am) by young people thinking of "slavery times" as ancient history.
I asked if the young person remembered us older relatives talk about Grandpa Bud. They did. Did they remember that he was a veteran and lived to be just over 100 years old? They did. Well, did they know that my Grandpa Bud was the child of slaves? See, that's time being funny, I told that "young 'un".
Their jaw dropped. I told them that Grandpa's parents were eventually freed, but they had lived as slaves. They didn't realize that Grandpa (who passed in 1986 or 87) had been born in just over 100 years before. I think I read once that the last known slave was still alive as late as 1970-something.
When my young person got over their shock, I introduced to some of the "old folks" stories about Grandpa Bud. They didn't realize that, unlike Alex Haley, I had not found a way to trace my grandfather's ancestry. His parents being born (or just taken) into slavery meant that their genealogy was a mystery to us.
But, still...
As it is with the beginning of every year, I start tallying anniversaries. How many years since loved ones have been gone, and who is celebrating which year of marriage, and how many years since I last saw talked to or heard about so-and-so.
When I first moved here over 8 years ago (9 years this coming summer), I had more than a few spry old neighbors who told me some stories about their youth. Some of them shared recipes and kitchen tips. One gentleman was the historian at the town library. He told me about some of the local homes and locations.
Just before the end of the years, two of those neighbors - very, very sweet women - were moved into nursing homes. It was no longer safe for them to live on their own and both had children that lived farther away than the ladies wanted to move. One of them, God willing, will be turning 99 this year. She's still mentally sharp, she just doesn't walk well and isn't able to cook and clean the way she did in her own place. I'm ashamed to say that she might have been in better shape a couple of years ago than I am now!
All in all, I tallied up 5 neighbors who have passed and at least that many who have gone into nursing care. And those are just the ones that I chatted with on a regular basis.
So yeah. I've been thinking a lot about time. When my sister was a young woman, Al Green was a favorite singer. Even though one of the tunes she loved most is a love song, the opening lines seems fitting for this post.
Sung by Al Green
Lyrics by Willy Nelson
I hope this a safe and happy year for us all.
Peace
--Free
P.S. Not sure how long the song will stay so here is a link.


















