My Memory of Running through the Corn Field

woman near corn plant — Photo by PETRA BAUMAN on Pexels.com

One of my favorite October memories is wandering through a giant maze in a corn field as a child. Have you ever been in a maze? Write about it or write about what you imagine it would be like.

I have a memory of running through the corn field. I was young, about eight. My mother return to Louisiana to help her dad take care of her mother.

My grandparents had a farm and with all the children living in other places, my mother volunteered to help care for her mother. If you have ever lived on a farm or know something about farming, you know there is a great deal of work that has to be done. You work before sunup to sundown.

My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. My grandfather could not run the farm and take of her in the manner she needed. When my grandfather asked her for help, my mother bundled us kids up and had my father drop us off at the farm.

I remembered us visiting the farm a couple of times before, but it was usually for the day, and then we would return to Houston, Texas. Now I learned what it meant to live and work on a farm.

I won’t go into that today, but I will share that my sister and I would sometimes hide in the corn field or we would each other, and we would the corn field to run and hide.

What I remember about running through the field, is that leaves on the corn stalks would cut the skin. That part was not fun, and it did not stop us from returning to the corn fields to play.

We were there close to a year. Since I was the oldest, I had to do my share of work. The other thing I remember, crying when we had to leave. I remember holding onto my grandfather’s leg because I didn’t want to leave. I remember promising him I would come back.

I never saw my grandfather again. He passed away a few months after we left. My mother said it was because he didn’t want to go on after my grandmother passed away.

For years, I talked about returning to Louisiana, but my children would be adults before I returned. The house everything was long gone because none of my mothers’ siblings returned to take care of the place. That included my mother.

I remember the good times rather reflect on what I missed. I know my grandfather is still waiting for me to return and the pull has been so strong, that I am sure that I will make the move next year.

That is the memory of my run through the corn field. It caused me to write more than I had planned. Now you know a little more about me. Send me your story. I would love to share it here.

Tomorrow’s prompt is below. Until tomorrow, please stay safe, and keep the faith.