Childhood Memories That Evolved Into "The Journey"

Mother and Mammaw struggled each day to keep things going. Mammaw had already sold her hogs, and come late summer, after the hay and dried corn were used up through the winter, and the fresh grazing was gone, the rest of the livestock had to be sold. I heard them talking quietly, and I knew Mammaw couldn’t stay on the farm. As they talked, I crept to the kitchen safe where the cornbread, cakes and pies were kept. I got a big piece of cornbread and wrapped it in a rag. I had my own jar of buttermilk that sat on a back porch shelf during cold weather. I carried my food to the corn crib, and after making sure a chicken snake wasn’t looking for a warm place out of the wind, I settled back among the dried ears of corn and for a nine year old, I did some serious thinking. I felt guilty about wanting to leave the farm. I guess somehow, I associated this with Mammaw having to leave next fall.