It is a time for remembering those who have gone before us. When I was a little girl, it was the time for us to go to Jasper, Alabama, to Homecoming at the First Baptist Church where my Mother's family lived. We would stay at my Grandma and Grandpa Jones house or at Aunt Vera's house. It would depend on how many people in our family was going to show up.
My Grandmother, Gertie, had an Aunt Genara and I remembered standing on the back of her rocking chair when I was about 4. I saw down her blouse; she had a prosthesis breast. This was in 1952 and I was about 6 years old. I remember wondering what she had in her bra. Aunt Genara was probably 60 years old by then, overweight, with white hair and granny glasses. She wore an apron most of the time. She was Grandma Jones' younger sister. I never asked anyone anything or even said anything to anyone about what I saw. Those were the days that children were to be seen, not heard.
In 2009, when I discovered the lump on my breast, that memory came back to me. I had not thought about it in years. When I told my mother, she did not even know, neither did her sister Margie. Then the BRACA test came back and said the cancer was not genetic. So, it really did not matter any way.
The point is that when we remember things about family members, illnesses, problems with hearing or eyes, we should write them down in a journal or the family Bible. I have always relied on my memory a lot, but now since I have been experiencing Fibro-Fog, I will be keeping a better log of things going on in our family. My grandmother always wrote things in her Bible.
Google has some amazing ways to sort your pictures and events in your life. Facebook does the same thing. It seems like every day I get asked to join another Social Media program; I think I have reached my max. I have been deleting myself from some. The ones that matter to me are the ones I need to keep Empire Avenue going. I could care less about my scores on Klout and other things like that.-