Missing memories.

In my past I always pushed passed the things that were important in life and always rushed towards the things that weren't so important. (if that makes sense)

I recently found a box filled with old letters from high school and summer jobs. Letters from friends that were back at home waiting for the summer to end, letters from classmates who spilled their drama filled lives on paper, and then there were letters from my mamaw.

One summer I decided to work at a camp. It isn't a very fond memory for me.

The other day though, as I was going through that box of letters, I found almost one for every week I was there, from my mamaw. I didn't even realize that she wrote me at all. I was so focused on the negative that I didn't have time to sit and read my mamaw's sweet words of encouragement. She wrote to tell me about what she was getting into that week and how much she missed me. She wrote about how much she was praying for me and how she knew I was going to be a light in someone's life. And the sad part is I probably didn't even write her back. (I was always so selfish as a teenager) As I sat and read these letters, I cried.

I miss her so much.

I always tell myself she would have loved Corey. (Even though his name didn't start with a J: She would always say something like this, "All the important guys in my life, all of their names start with J." She would then began to name all of her sons, and then her son-in-laws and finally she would say, "but the most important man in my life, his name starts with a J too, his name is Jesus.")

I think She would have made a special exception, since his last name's Presley.

She loved people and angels.
She never met a stranger.
She always gave hugs.
She loved to dance.
My favorite toy at her house was a Mr. T doll.
She loved peppermint patties.
She made amazing biscuits and gravy.
She used to tell me "Man cannot live on Bread alone." because as a child, homemade bread was my favorite.
She was a huge talker.
I always claimed I took a hammer and nail to her head of curls and that's how I got my curly hair. (don't judge me)
One of the very last memories I have of just me and her: I drove her to get her hair fixed in my black mustang with spongebob seat covers. We rocked out to, Little Big Town's - Boondocks. (I'm not kidding)
She loved chicken gizzards from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
When she couldn't think of the name of something she would say, "Whatchamacallit"

I'm not really sure there's a point to this blog. She's just been on my mind a lot lately. I wish that time had slowed down just for a little bit, so that I could have savored those moments a little bit more.

I hope one day, when I see her again, she'll tell me how proud she is of me. That she got to watch me walk down the isle. That she danced with us in the barn. She'll give me a great big hug and we'll talk for hours. And that'll be okay with me.



I love you Mamaw.
 (I found this picture the other day, it makes me giggle.)





Love Always,
Callie Marie-McCarty Presley