Childhood Memories of Home

I grew up in the North Carolina mountains, and lived in a few different homes. But the one I most remember was on Main Street right across from the Catholic church. It was brick with a huge front porch. There was a sidewalk in front of our house and it ran directly down Main Street, which was really nice. I remember riding my bike from one end of town to the other, stopping by the library for a book to read, or going to the little country store for a pop on a hot summer day. I suppose if I could compare the town I lived in to any other town, I would compare it to Mayberry on the old Andy Griffith Show. Everybody knew everybody. The town had a quiet peaceful feel to it. There was a feeling of safety. We would go to sleep most summer nights with our front door open so the cool breeze would come in through the screen door. The thought of anyone trying to break in or do us harm never entered our minds.

The house I lived in was a two story house, and my bedroom was on the second floor. I hated to go up there. Portraits of my dead ancestors lined the hallway and to a little girl, they looked plain scary. Their eyes would follow me, and to this day I get shivers just thinking about it. I can’t remember ever actually sleeping in my bedroom. My granny would let me sleep downstairs with her, and I loved watching her unbraid her long gray hair each night. She would let me brush it for her and I thought it was so beautiful.

But I did venture upstairs from time to time, for up there was a treasure chest filled with delightful things for a young girl. Old costume jewelry, high heeled shoes, long frilly dresses, big flowered hats, not to mention lots of “unmentionables”. I would sneak up there, don some of the beautiful clothing, and then head downstairs. Sometimes, feeling so beautiful and all, I would go stand on the sidewalk and wave at the cars passing by. One day, mama found me and pulled me back into the house, telling me that the corset I had on was an undergarment…not to be worn for all to see. I never could figure that out, because it was so beautiful, it just seemed like a girl would want to be seen in it.

I remember Sunday dinners. We always had Mama’s homemade fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, homemade green beans, rolls, and dessert. The chicken was always the one my dad killed that very morning in our front yard. My sister and I used to get tickled watching him kill the chicken, because after he chopped its head off with the axe, it would continue to run around the yard. As disgusting as I thought the entire ritual was, I suppose the humor of it outweighed the bad.

Another thing about the house was that I truly believed it to be haunted. A few times, when looking into the mirror in my parent’s bedroom, I saw an apparition standing behind me…and the best way I can describe what I saw is that it was an old hag. The woman was wearing black, slightly bent over, and she had some kind of black covering over her head. It was really scary, and to this day whenever I look in a mirror I think of that, and wonder who she was and what she wanted.

My dad built me a little playhouse in the backyard. It was so cute. He painted it red, and it had a window and a front door. He fixed it up and it even had a play sink, stove, and refrigerator in it. But guess what? I NEVER played in that little house because I saw a couple of spiders in there and I was so scared of them. (This is due to the fact that my older sister’s boyfriend used to throw them on me as a means of getting rid of me when he was trying to make out with my sister). Anyway, I’m still scared of spiders, but do regret not playing in the house my dad went to so much trouble to make for me. I bet that hurt his feelings, but he never really said.

I visited my hometown not too long ago, and the old house is still there. It has been renovated and is now a Mexican restaurant. It seems so strange to see the back yard is now a parking lot. My little playhouse is no longer there. My sister and I are going to go back soon and have dinner there, to see how they have changed it around. I wonder if it is still haunted…