Thursday, May 26, 2011

Little Pink House

Today I passed by an old familiar landmark, and suddenly was almost in tears. My dad's family
was very typical of most families in this area......several generations lived on the family land.
My grandparents house sits on a hill, to the left lived my dad's oldest brother and down below to the right was my dad's younger dad and mom lived in town. My dad's younger brother was handsome and full of life and like my father and their older brother died too young.
Uncle James and Aunt Inez (dad's younger brother and wife) lived in a pink house.
That house has been in my memory bank since I was a toddler. They had two sons, James and Jerry who were older than me, but I worshiped them and I know I was such a pest when we were kids.

They had a tire swing that hung on the limb of an old oak tree in the back yard. Aunt Inez had red seven sister roses every where, and purple iris. They had a dog, Shorty who was black and tan,
short legged and round as he could be, but I loved him and he always greeted me with a big lick on the face! Aunt Inez had a voice that was as sweet and slow as honey, she had thick black hair that hung almost to her waist, and she wore it braided and wrapped around her head........I loved her dearly. Honestly, she probably baked more birthday cakes for me than my mom ever did and they were always yellow cake with peanut butter caramel icing. The Best cake ever!

Aunt Inez died way too young, she was probably forty, and I can remember my mom and I going with her to the doctor.......I think at that time, the only treatment for cancer was surgery and radiation, and neither worked for her.

Today as I passed by, I realized that little pink house was torn down. It had sat empty for years, and I am sure it would have eventually fallen in, to look and no longer see it, was almost too much to bear. To this day, I remember the rooms, the furniture in that house. She had a lamp
that had a painting on the base and when the light was turned on, a waterfall appeared and it looked as though the water was running.

Aunt Inez always called me Jill, and Uncle James called me Jildabug, ( I did sorta look like an insect when I was a kid) I can hear their voices as clear as can be, I remember their laughter
and the love I felt when I was in their home. Tonight, there was a little part of me, that was torn down with that little pink house. It really is all just a memory now.


  1. Oh, that is such a sad post today, Jilda. I am quite tearful as I type this. So sad about the little pink house no longer being there, and I can imagine how you felt. But what wonderful, vivid memories you still have in your mind. They can never be torn down and will always be precious to you. Uncle James and Aunt Inez sound like a lovely, caring couple.

  2. As long as you share the story with others, it will always be remembered. That was a beautiful story!

  3. Yes, a sad post but I can identify as things I cherished from my childhood are gone now and it is sad.

  4. It's tough when things (and people) that exist so vividly in our memories and hearts are no longer there in reality.

  5. Reading this made me think of my Uncle John he was my favorite uncle and he died far to young although I can not remember how old he was he seemed to young to me to die I think he was around 50.............He was one of those people who was told he had brain cancer and like 3 months later he was dead it was so fast.