I remember when I was growing up one thing which I enjoyed was talking with my elders. I remember talking with my great-grandparents, my grandparents, their siblings, and their friends. It seemed they all had one thing in common, even though they were aging their minds were sharp. They could remember events from their childhood. They never seemed to have a problem recalling anything.
Now when I am sitting at home watching television almost every other commercial seems to be in regards to memory loss. It makes me wonder when and why this memory loss epidemic is so prevalent. It seems young folk even forget things nowadays or suffer from memory loss.
I used to always tell my grandmother I need to sit down with her and write a journal on all the unwritten accounts of the history of everyone she had in her memory bank so all wouldn't be lost if we ever lost her. You could bring up a name to her and she could tell you who the person's parents were, who their grandparents were, what they did professionally, all the activities they participated in internally and externally to the church, how many children they had, what their children did, what minister they joined the church under and so much more.
Admittedly at times her memory was a little too good. When it was time for a butt whipping I thought she had forgotten about. She would start by inquiring "you thought I forgot?". In the back of my mind I know that didn't happen. I was just trying to stay under the radar not to entice her. Then as she was whipping me she would remind me of everything she had told me, why she was beating me, and so much more. I got so many whippings one day she told me she was going to stop beating me because all it was doing was making me tougher. Yes, I was thankful she never forgot she said she was going to stop beating me. I think the beatings stopped around my first year in middle school. During the nine months I was in school during my elementary school years I probably got a beating daily.
My grandmother could recount every beating she ever gave me and why she beat me. If I forgot she could remind me. I remember I used to keep a diary. Of course she would read it. I found out one day she was reading my diary when I had written an entry admonishing something she had said to me. It would be like she was critiquing my diary. Yes, I was totally offended. But laugh because she only called me on it once. She said "I don't care that you don't like what I say but I'm going to say it anyway. You can hate me now but you'll love me later." She was right. I hated her. Mainly because of all the beatings. But in retrospect if I could bring her back I would. We could go word for word like nobody's business. She would not back down and had to have the last word. No I wasn't being disrespectful I was being the way she raised me to be. She wouldn't let me relent in silence. She would be like ain't you got "nothing" to say. She would never let me walk away or just concede. She would walk down behind me and demand I stand my ground.
Even though I've mellowed a lot since those days I never was taught to be submissive. I wasn't taught to be domestic either. Some days I think its because she remembered the struggle of her ancestors too well.
