Memories

Memory Squared

red and black
memories
inside and out
whisk me
to dad
to grampa
smelling
of winter
pine
old spice
the woods
tagging along
following
warm
red and
black wool

I have to be a tour guide/docent at the Stetson House barn tonight for the opening of the Festival of Trees . The barn will be damp and cold even though the temperatures promise to be unseasonably warm tonight. I was going to wear my trusty Icelandic sweater, but suddenly remembered this old wool Buffalo Plaid jacket. The plaid was an iconic 1950s staple for my dad and his father when they went into our woods.

Suddenly I was a little brown haired girl again, flooded with so many memories. The first flash was a scary playback of a terrifying day when I was 9 and needed an emergency appendectomy. I had pains at school and was sent to the school nurse. My symptoms were not classic, but Mrs. Simmons, my friend's grandmother was worried enough to recommend an emergency doctor trip. She saved my life perhaps. The school doctor's exam was horrifying, it was my pediatrician's day off, then I saw the doctor covering for her too. My mother was terrified, she just kept saying to Dr. Hammond, the stern school doctor, "I have to call my husband." His sharp answer rings in my memory as well, "Why, is he a doctor?" My father was called and he rushed from work to meet us. Mum and I got to the hospital first and all I remember was the black and red wool blanket they put over me on that rolling gurney in the cold Emergency Room. Immediately I felt like my dad was there with me. Suddenly, he was and we were in an elevator and the blanket was still there too. A blurred and frantic emergency to remove an appendix ready to burst inside a little freckled girl wrapped tightly in red and black wool.

I miss those lovely men in red & black squares.

For the Record,
This day came in dark and damp with warming temperatures.

All hands healthy.