51 to 15

By Terri Rimmer

He told me he really missed me and could I come see him for Christmas in one of the home towns I lived in, Smyrna, Georgia.

My heart sank as I knew I had to work and it was our busiest season, though I still wanted to see him as I told him New Year’s Eve weekend might be a possibility.

For the first time I didn’t have any travel anxiety as many times as I’ve traveled, which was nice.

I had a dream before I left that I got off the plane and there he was, hugging me tight and not letting go.

I didn’t have any nightmares like I usually do before I make my yearly birthday trip. I have had nightmares every night since I was three.

This “he” I speak of is Terry, one of my former foster fathers, a lifetime Church of Christ member who I’ve kept in touch with since the 80s. My foster mom, Peggy passed away in 1983.

Terry got remarried in 1988 to a woman named Ann, also a lifelong Church of Christ member.

Terry graduated from high school in 1968, having married his high school sweetheart, Peggy.

He grew up in Medford Place and I lived in a house on Harold Street from the time I was a baby till age three, just down the road.

When I lived with he and Peggy I wound up going to their alma mater, Wills High School.

Fast forward to my trip.

Just as in my dream he gave me a big hug when he picked me up from the airport and

whisked me away for lunch at Ole South Barbecue, one of our family’s haunts and ours and then we went sightseeing so he could show me how much everything had changed.

AGAPE Smyrna Church of Christ foster care agency that placed me with Terry and Peggy, and before them, The Letchworths, went out of business.

It became too costly to run.

That night Ann, Terry’s wife, made dinner in the old kitchen where, at 15, I prepared a Seventeen Magazine recipe of lasagna and served it to Peggy and Terry with great care and anxiety.

Amidst Christmas decorations, Terry and Ann worked on their traditional puzzle and I gave them one I brought for them. I could remember what was where in every corner of each room and exactly how everything looked before. Now the fridge beeped if you didn’t push the door in all the way and the dishwasher made a noise repeatedly until you hit a button when it was done. And now the house had an alarm due to a robbery while they were at work and the only evidence that I ever lived there was the original bed frame in my old room and the first flooring which hadn’t been replaced.

I went to the bathroom after unpacking a few things, looked in the mirror and

said, “I remember you” to my foster mom.

The first night I was there this time I cried a little and talked to my foster mom,

trying to remember her nickname for me until it came to me.

“Kitten.”

In the middle of the night I got up to get a glass of water, looked out over the great

view of the trees similar to my family home’s kitchen window and said again, “I remember you.”

I remember when I got in trouble once and Peggy had Terry take my TV out of the room which was easy since it was on a cart with wheels.

I remember getting ready for church which I hated going to as a teenager but now love going to as an adult, yet even as a teen I would watch Terry diligently studying his Bible at the dining room table, which is now a refurbished hospital door.

The morning I got ready to return home after my weekend this time, I saw the same man

dutifully poring over his devotional and I admired him once again for his faith and dedication.

And I realized that though things had been replaced and upgraded, that nothing had changed in this house.

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