We called my dad’s mother Mama Sims. She was not just a grandmother, she was the grand matriarch of the family. Certain things about the house she called home are forever embedded in my mind– there are things about a house that little kids never forget. My ten first cousins and two siblings who share memories of Mama Sims’ house will certainly remember them all, but it’s time to share them with the world. Let’s take a tour of Mama Sims’ house through the eyes of me as a child. Continue reading MAMA SIMS’ HOUSE
Tag Archives: memories
A NAME BY ANY OTHER NAME
Hey men, do you remember the day it became uncool to call your father Daddy— especially in public? Oh yes. If you were over eleven and still called him “Daddy,” you were made fun of in the boys bathroom at school. (It was at about the same time that “Can I go play with Walt?” turned into “I’m going over to hang-out with Walt.”) Your father could be referred to as “my Father” and a guy would keep his self-respect intact. But most of us moved straight to saying “Dad.” Some smart alecks might venture into “my Old Man,” but that was dangerous– especially if your “Old Man” got wind of it. I never tried that. I never even wanted to.
