My father, James E. Ratledge would be 100 years old this November 21. After he died, Mama said he never left. He was still sitting in his recliner, waiting for her. I believe it. I think Mama is sitting on my right shoulder and Daddy is on left one. Both are whispering in my ear.
Wow. Where to start? How to tread lightly yet dig deeper than any column I’ve ever written, or maybe even read, in a newspaper? Here goes.
Recently, I had the opportunity to do a podcast interview with Gwinnett County Board of Commissioners Chairperson Charlotte Nash. Ms. Nash covered a variety of topics, one of which was the importance of ensuring adequate water supplies.
Today, I went to vote. I saw young people, some sporting piercings and tattoos, others wielding briefcases and braving high heels. I saw older Americans, many walking to stand in the voting line, stooped over and moving only with the aid of a cane.
Note: This is a version of a piece I wrote in 2013, just a few months before my father passed away at 93 years of age. I thought, in light of present circumstances, it might deserve another look. I have added a few more thoughts, three years after his death. If any of you is caring for an aging (originally written in January 2013)
My childhood memories, most of them anyway, are as sweet and comforting as the very smells that I associate with them. Mine are vanilla and cinnamon. Mmmmm the very thought of those two smells makes me feel all warm and well, happy.
My husband Snell said that people did not dress in costumes and go Trick or Treating when he was growing up. What a terrible shame. My best friend and next door neighbor Dotti and I lived for Halloween. Our mothers, however, did not. Well, maybe a little.
After Mom read my July column, “Be a Great American and ACT,” she called to tell me that I had forgotten to mention a very important organization that I participated in as a young girl. It helped to shape skills, leadership, loyalty, honor, and national patriotism. Which group am I referring to? The Girl Scouts. As usual, Mom was right.
No one likes to be told that, do they? “This is none of your business.” I don’t. Sometimes I think I believe that everything is my business, simply because I believe my opinion has value to anyone and everyone. Well, it’s not, and it doesn’t. That’s a good thing, by the way. When we finally learn the lesson about circles of influence and the things that really should matter to us, life is oh-so-much simpler.
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