September holds many memories for our family, including births, weddings, and even deaths.

I have a box loaded with photos of reunions held in September throughout the years. Coming together with people you only see once every year or two, enjoying everyone’s favorite cakes and pies, it helps keep us connected.

Each September, it was and still is today, the time to pull up the last of the beans, corn stalks, and other spent crops to make way for winter vegetables. The tomatoes give all their energy to produce a little longer. So does the okra. The sign of changes soon to come. Harvesting and planting has often brought our family together and of course, there was always a pot of soup and cornbread shared around the family table.

I recall the day in September 2012 when my family gathered to say goodbye to one of my aunts. I could write a book full of memories of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, but today I’m focusing on the sweet memories I carry close to my heart of my Aunt Ouida.

Growing up, I was part of a large extended family on both my dad’s and mom’s side of the family. My dad was from Mississippi and grew up in a household with four brothers. We lived in Alabama, so we often traveled to Mississippi to spend time with our family.

The excitement I felt each time the day arrived for us to leave for one of our Mississippi trips was hard to contain. I was chatty-cathy all day at school, restless and eager for the end-of-the-day bell to ring, knowing my parents were ready and waiting to leave for our trip. I’m sure my teacher was relieved to get me out the school door, too! I did not walk home from school on those days; I ran as fast as my skinny legs could take me.

Our family lived in Smith County, Mississippi, and my grandparent’s home was on a dirt road. On each trip home, as my father turned onto the familiar road, he would drive slow like a turtle so he didn’t stir up the dust, but I just wanted him to hurry. I knew, just like every time before, around the bend all the family would be at my grandparents’ house waiting for our arrival.

The weekends were fun-packed and busy, playing hard all day on Saturdays with all my cousins. Without a care in the world, we were up and down that dirt road from early morning until late evening, playing and enjoying our time together. Life was good.

All the memories from those days are special and still play like old movie reels in my mind, but one memory in particular brings a warm, cozy feeling each time I relive it.

It was late in the evening. After a long day of playing, all of us kids were exhausted. But when my Uncle Cecil and Aunt Ouida announced they were going into town, I was ready to go with them. So were all my cousins.

We piled into the car, and off we went. It was a beautiful night; clear sky with shining stars and a bright moon. The windows were down, and we rode along that country road, breathing in fresh, clean air. I rode in the front seat, snuggled up next to my Aunt Ouida.

I remember that night so well; I can’t explain why. But I recall it as if it were yesterday, and I can still feel my aunt’s arms around me, snuggling as we talked and giggled while traveling down the road. On the way home, I fell asleep, and it was the end of a perfect day.

The last thing I remember that night was Aunt Ouida tucking me in my quilt pallet on the floor and placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. The world felt safe and secure to one tired little girl.

Early the next morning, our family loaded our car and made the trip back to Alabama. I took with me some of that red Mississippi dirt deep in my soul. It’s still there. I am a Mississippi/Alabama girl at heart.

Not a significant memory to most people. Nothing spectacular happened that night. It’s just a sweet memory of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and how much I cherish growing up with such a strong, loving family.

I will hold tight to the Mississippi memories until I take my last breath. Sometimes the treasures that matter most are the simple things in life.

In the last few years, I have realized how fragile life is and how quickly things can change. Also, how wonderful it is to have those in my life who share memories with me of childhood days.

Family is a blessing to have, to hold on to, and to grow old together, remembering the simple times from childhood days. It’s the steady heartbeat that carries us from childhood into the unknown roads of life.

I’m thankful for my Aunt Ouida who snuggled with me one beautiful night so many years ago. Through that memory, God reminds me of the beauty of family. And, when life gets busy and confusing, it also reminds me that sometimes all we need is a slow, peaceful ride down a country road as we breathe in the fresh night air, look at the stars and the moon, laugh and giggle, and enjoy life with one another.

Life passes much too fast. Pick up the phone and make a call today to someone with whom you share childhood memories. Plan a time to get together, talk about old times. You’ll be glad you did.

Thank you, Aunt Ouida, for the memories. I’ll see you again one day and feel your arms around me.