I remember standing with my feet in the clouds

Inside each of us, is a story just waiting to be exposed.I wonder what mine is?

This is a gift to a dear friend who wants her story told, never mind she wants it, deserves it even. This is a story that needs to be told, before she leaves me before it leaves her.

Asheville, in the Carolinas, that where she first takes me back to her memories, two to be exact. She can't remember much back then
Not much about the men in her family,
Not much about friends, neighbours, after three score and ten the mind starts to fade.
She managed though to take me back to Ashville, early 1930's, a little cabin , snow piled high to the windows, the only heat from a wood stove.

"...I always had a cold, it was so chilly , I stayed with a cold and Mama. 'course she wasn't really my mama, she was my my mamma's sister, the eldest, took care of the rest of the family, so everyone called her Mamma when I was born and I just followed suit. Well Mamma would feed me that nasty castor oil and chase it with coffee and to this day,I just hate even the smell of coffee!"

Her face was contorted much the same way it probably had been way back then as she twisted side to side, hair aged silver following it's masters moves. Then she stopped and a twinkle formed , brows smoothed and a smile broke through...

"I remember waking up early and running outside. Things may be different now, but I remember standing with my feet in the clouds!