Dear Diary, I love Flowers, Too | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    Sunday dawned fair. I was driving to the grocery store, not long after the day was born. I was having company for breakfast! Will and Jenny stopped by on the their way home, after being out of town for several days. I had stayed up til two am, finishing that floor and of course cleaning up the mess I had strewn in the process. I had almost enough eggs, almost enough bacon,no milk and no juice. So armed with a coffee, I drove to the nearest town and shopped in record time-at least for me.

    Somehow, breakfast was ready and the house was mostly tidy, when they got here. Lyla was so glad to see me, and I was certainly glad to see her. I had not seen her in two weeks . I am convinced that painting that floor had kept me just busy enough, not to cry about it. Growing up on a farm, you get used to having family close by. I grew up with first, second, third and fourth cousins, all within a few miles. Of course, there were all the "great" grandmothers, aunts and uncles too. You could go anywhere, and you were "home" back then. There were no "play-dates" -you played with your cousins. You wore their "hand-me-downs" and knew their secrets. If you got sick at school, any of them could show up to get you. Many times, we cousins, would take off to the woods and play for hours , uninterrupted. We had forts complete with governments and trials . We could tell suppertime by the shadows and you can best believe we went home, when the sunlight slanted at some certain degree. No one worried about getting kidnapped . . with the exception of attending the county fair. We had to stick close at the fair, as apparently Grandmama had heard of such a thing. It was a different and beautiful time to grow up in. I am thankful that Will has all sorts of family in Elizabeth City-and I am not that far away, either. When Jenny told me that they were moving to Elizabeth City, now three years back, I knew Will had some family there. Then I found out not only his mom, but aunts and uncles-and a slew of cousins, too-well, I knew right then that Jenny had an army of folks behind her and I did not worry in the least. As it turns out, I was right.

    After breakfast, we all went out and strolled around the rabbit patch. We usually get our first frost about this time, but this year we are still at eighty degrees most days, and so it was muggy out. When a slight breeze loosed some leaves, Lyla said "look, Honeybee! It's raining leaves!" She smelled all the flowers and said "I love flowers." , in such a soft voice. I told Lyla, that her great grandmother did too . . and so did I. You tell the family stories, in moments like these. My own mama was always good at that. She told us things about those before us, til I could have sworn I knew them, though they had passed long before my birth.

    Sunday afternoon slipped by like a lullaby-soft and easy. I did take a nap, but I managed to clean the car out and put away laundry, also. The Farmlife community is a quiet one, but on Sunday it is about silent. When you can hear a leaf fall- you are in a peaceful place.

    Dear Diary, I am so glad for slight wind that loosens autumn leaves and wildflowers growing, where tomatoes used to. I am glad for quiet afternoons and most of all . . .Sunday mornings that begin with my loved ones sitting at the same table.