With the passing of my last grandparent, I can't help but to think about the country and small-town roads that I traveled to for the past 25 years of my life.

My mother, Lashell Hale, was raised in Aubrey, Arkansas. Aubrey is a small rural town with a population of about 200. There isn’t a street name you take to get to my grandparent's home; instead, you must take a highway exit. Once you take the exit, you'll drive down a road. The first thing I'd admire after that turn is the store beside the highway market. There was a family that lived behind this closed store. I would always stare out the back window and watch the house to look for signs of life. I was amazed that a family lived in an abandoned store. No lights. Most likely no running water. A completely unlivable place, but somehow these people made it work. The store has since burned down, but that family now lives in a trailer in the same spot.

Once the store was out of sight, I would place my focus back on the dirt road. Houses along this road were far apart. The thing I remember the most is a tractor store set up along the road outside of someone's yard. If we were going to my mother's home church, we'd turn left down a narrow road. We'd pass the trailer that became the new place of congregation for my mother's side of the family once her parents died. After passing the trailer, you'd find yourself at Hempshire Missionary Baptist Church.

Our time worshiping at my mother’s humble home church was magical: hot services, Easter programs, "We're marching to Zion" sung by my Aunt Ruth (lead and choir), afternoon services until 5, my attempt at leading my first song (emphasis on attempt because no one could hear me), the choir and being forced to sing in the choir for every program little to no practice, the choir singing "Jesus is on the mainline" at my grandfather's funeral, my brother singing "His Eyes on a Sparrow" at my grandmother’s funeral and the program for my grandparents. Hempshire was (and continues to be for my mother and her siblings) a pivotal part of the Aubrey experience.

If you do not turn left and continue straight, you'd eventually find yourself at my grandparents’ home. The home of Mansfield and Artra B. Randle. In addition to their home, my Aunt Ruth lived on the land as well.

They had their house, their small old home, and my aunt's house on the same land. It was tons of dirt/grass parking space. There was even a place large enough for a dirt/grass "basketball court". Whenever the family would visit, we all stayed there.

I forgot to mention that my grandparents had 12 children. I have so many cousins. So many! Sometimes at the family reunions, Smith & Hunter and Randle, I would meet new cousins. My mom or her sisters will casually mention a family member at times as if I should know them. I can barely remember my students’ names so please don't expect me to remember over a hundred cousins.

Though we were a little army, we would all sleep there like it was a college dormitory. My grandparents had three bedrooms and a TV room. Between two of the bedrooms, the TV room, and the living room, 30-plus people would fill it up. There was a sleeping pallet everywhere (well not the kitchen, but there were times where I thought we’d need it because it was so many people).

Once everyone started to go to sleep you had to make sure you went to the bathroom and that you had everything you needed. When one of the aunties, Grandma, or Granddaddy would turn out the lights, you wouldn’t be able to see much. The last thing you wanted to do was step on someone trying to go to the bathroom. You’d wake several people up and believe me, no one would let you forget it the next morning.

Finding an area to sleep was never a problem. There was always room even when it didn't look like it. My biggest concern was the bathroom. Taking turns in the bathroom, morning or night, took forever. Oh, and don't take too long because someone will keep knocking on the door. Since it was so many people there, you could not sleep in. No one would let you. Once people started to get up, there would always be someone bothering you: “Get up so I can put those covers away. Get up so I can clean up. Get up.” Secondly, breakfast went fast.

The meal I remember my Grandma cooking the most for breakfast is sausage and biscuits. Most of the time it was first come first serve because one of the aunties would complain about how you should have gotten up. They were protective of their mom. When I was young, that annoyed me. As a young adult, I completely understand. Play with your parents, but you better leave Jarvis and Shell alone (because they already have their children’s smart mouths to deal with).

There are so many memories in Aubrey: the celebration for Grandma, the Smith and Hunter dance battle, Sundays at Hampshire, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and more. My time in Aubrey was special, beautiful, and one of a kind. Sometimes I wish I could go back and relive those moments. To have moments to spend with my grandparents again would be an honor, but all I have are those memories and that has to be enough.

But I didn't spend all my time in Aubrey. My father grew up about 15 minutes up the road in Marianna. I knew we were in Marianna when I would see the green and burgundy liquor store, the funeral home that I thought was a skating rink (it's called Roller which sounds like a skating rink), the gas station at the light, the sign for Sonic (The Sonic in Marianna), and of course the “Welcome to Marianna” sign. We would pass the fish market where everyone made it a mission to go before leaving because they had the best fish, my granny's church where we celebrated the home-going of her; my Uncle Quinn; and Grandpa Jimmie, and one of the school's my parents attended before finally turning on South Church Street.

Now my dad's side of the family is large but not as large as my mother's side. Unlike my mother's family, it was rare for the entire family to be at Granny's house, but that didn’t matter. The people that did gather at Granny’s house often still had a great time. Love was in the air whether it was just Jarvis and family, the Kelly’s, the Wells, the Gist, Anthony and family, or even adoptive children of my Granny’s.

Growing up I could always count on seeing my grandma in the kitchen throwing down or doing a crossword puzzle. Often times I would see her in the kitchen making her famous fried apple pies. For breakfast, she would always make me a pot of oatmeal. She’d make anything if you asked. She was just that type of person. She’d give her last to help someone or just to show she loved and cared for you. She was one of the nicest people I knew. She was funny and caring. Her house was always opened to her family and everyone was basically family to her.

My brothers and I love sleeping in Marianna the most because there was more room and for the A/C. My Granddaddy in Aubrey pretty much didn't believe in the A/C. Everyone was always cold to him. In Marianna, we didn't have to sweat much, but we still had to deal with the mutant mosquitoes.

In Marianna, I had many great memories: 4th of July each year to celebrate Granny's birthday, Memorial Day weekend, walking the streets with my cousins, the summers I spent there, riding to Bear Creek with my dad and my uncles, laughing with Aunt Carrie about something crazy she said, the excitement of seeing Uncle Quinn; Auntie Carol; Uncle Greg and family; and Uncle Jimmie Jr., Auntie Peggy and Granny spoiling me, hitting the streets with Kendra and Tasha, watching my little cousins grow up, laughing and hanging out with Uncle Tim, Uncle Daryl’s fish fry, getting closer to Aunt Anita and my cousins once they move back home, and many more. My time in Marianna was special, beautiful, and one of a kind. I wish I could do it all over again, but life doesn’t work that way and that has to be okay.

Now that my final grandparent has went on to be with the Lord, it feels like an end of an era. Some would say it ended after my mother's parents moved from Aubrey to Pine Bluff due to their failing health. I would agree, but I still had Marianna. I still had Paree. Now I'm not sure what I have left there. I still have family there, but it is not the same. Aubrey is depressing now. My grandparents’ home is no longer there. There is only a forest where their home once housed a happy, loving family. Marianna was only special because of Paree, but now I'm left with redefining its place in my heart.

I am so grateful and blessed to have been able to witness the lives of Jimmy and Paree Hale as well as Mansfield and Artra B. Randle.

This article was previously published on facebook.com/BlaiseTheWriter.