Good morning. Thank you for taking a smidgen of your day to read my weekly column writing endeavors.

Today’s piece, however, is not written by me. It’s by a lady who takes a memory journey back into another time. I think it will touch your heart. As it did mine.

March 22, 2016

“I am sitting in my carport and the sun is warming my face and this feels good.

“My two cats are also sunning themselves, hoping I will brush their hair.

“My home is behind me, a large house where I live alone along with my memories.

“But today my thoughts are of another home — the one I grew up in. One I moved into when I was 3 years old, one filled with memories so fearful I couldn’t wait to leave.

“But today I went back in time and felt the emotion I felt when Papa died — how I went into his room to kiss him good morning and he was not there. He had died during the night and was carried away and I never saw him again. I was not allowed to go to the funeral.

“I see the house, the front steps, the screened porch where Mama and I would sit to escape the heat and mosquitoes and watch the cars go by.

“I see the tenant house where one of our tenants murdered his wife and was never arrested. I was afraid to say anything but I knew he did it.

“I see the barn (pack house) where tobacco was graded and Mama worked with tenants, paid Social Security for herself and was so happy when she received her first check.

“I see the tobacco barns where we would sit and talk with the tenants when they cured the tobacco.

“There are good memories of my life between three and eighteen and today I choose to dwell on them.

“I see my play house that Papa had built for me. It was one room but large enough.

“I see the chicken house where I loved to gather eggs — I couldn’t get over the miracle of the eggs being formed in a chicken.

“I could see Mama coming to the front door when I would pay her a surprise visit.

“Oh foolish me! Why didn’t I talk to her more? There is so much I would ask her now, like, where did you get those beautiful large hats you wore? That pretty locket you have on in your picture? Who was your first boy friend?

“I see a tree in our back yard that I used to climb and sit there and day dream.

“My walk back in time to Chocowinity has been so real.

“The house is no longer there, but today, it was.”

Our author of today’s column has lived away from here for a very, very long time. She is now 94 years old.

And she has her memories.