“Old 27” is our nickname we have given for a place we used to know, play as children and visit grandma and the relatives, a central gathering point we called our second home. Many of the people are gone now. Twenty-five years ago we lost two of most favorite people, Margaret Allen, our grandmother, on Nov. 21, 1985, and Vane Mickle, our uncle, the next day, Nov.22, 1985. Many friends and relatives we knew have been gone since, some recently. But to me, this was the two days that really ended an era, even though it may have been winding down in those last few years. We loved these people and they love us, not because we had to, but because of the bonds between us, and how we were taught by them how to love. Cookies in the jar, breakfast on Sunday morning, swing sets being put up by dad and uncle, snowmobiles being shared, staying with grandma by ourselves, playing with everything in sight in the basement and garage, golfing, a walk in the woods, a trip into town or visiting the Dover school…these things meant nothing without the people we loved there with us, as we know by now.
But today we should not mourn, but celebrate their memory and their lives as the foundation of our lives, and the people that came before them, our ancestors, and the people who will be our descendents, and pass the torch on to continue that foundation, that love that they gave to us in their way, the way they knew how in the times they lived in. And let us use the best of them in ourselves in our lives, our children’s lives, our grandchildren’s lives and for generations to come. Once we are gone it is left to those in the future, not to remember their ancient ancestors so much as to remember to love others as they did love us.
by t.timlin
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