Looking through Goodwill’s books the other day, the spine of one looked “chocolaty,” the very color of a Hershey’s Chocolate wrapper and its enwrapped confection. The book’s front cover was the Hershey’s logo, just like the chocolate bar.

Someone had donated their old “Hershey’s Chocolate World,” Hershey, Pennsylvania guidebook to the Goodwill. (Like “The Woolworth” in “Oh Brother Where Art Thou” (2000), it’s “The Goodwill.”)

I suddenly remembered seeing one of these years before, from when my mother, Mrs. Bernard (Lorraine) Williams, “took the tour.” She also brought back miniature baskets filled, appropriately enough, with Hershey’s Miniatures.

My mother’s last home of this life was the Yadkin House Apartments, where she already had many friends and made new ones (without difficulty, since she was a caring friend, as well as a caring mother).

Not long after moving there, she started taking “senior trips” with the other Yadkin House residents.

One of her first journeys was to Shatley Springs, in the little town of Crumpler, located in Ashe County (where according to a “High Country” travel brochure, one can “See Cheese Made”).

When she told me the food was wonderful “country cooking” (she sounded the “g”), I remembered my Appalachian student experience at Boone’s wonderful Daniel Boone Inn (a “gravied paradise”).

The Boone restaurant had years before made room for a tree growing up through its building. Although my mother saw no such “botanical wonder” ( equally, “wonder of construction”) at Shatley Springs, she did speak of beautiful mountain scenery there.

While speaking of food, I will digress to mention that from time to time, not very long after my mother moved into the Yadkin House, an older gentleman stopped by (always at dinnertime) to partake of my mother’s cooking ( like one of “The Little Red Hen’s” friends). To the best of my memory, he never returned the favor by taking her out to eat.

As for me, I would rather stick to “civilian K rations” (cans) from grocery store shelves, than try to pass myself off as someone’s “dear mealtime friend.” She eventually spoke to him about this, and afterwards his visits ceased (but, most likely, not his hunger).

I just now remember he sang tenor in a group, so that speaks for itself.

Another special trip was one to Abingdon, Virginia’s Barter Theatre. There is a retirement facility in Danville named Abingdon Place, and driving past, I am reminded of my mother’s trip. After being alive for a  certain number of years, everything gets associated with something else. (I made a perfect score on the Miller Analogies Test, that famous (infamous) test of analogical aptitude.)

When the group went to Florida, my mother brought back souvenirs which I still have today: a beautiful conch shell, a spider crab shell, and a right-angled, “cruciform” starfish.

My mother was also in The Salisbury Singing Seniors, and I especially remember the time they performed at the Caswell County Fair in Yanceyville, on the fair’s Senior Day.

The Singing Seniors gave a wonderful performance, my mother performing a solo. I have always felt that when words and notes are strung together into song, a “senior” voice sounds rejuvenated, and so it was with the Salisbury group and my mother. It is said that “God loves us when we sing,” so maybe that more youthful sound is His gift. When the country singer Mel Tillis sings, his congenital stuttering is “in remission,” but only when he sings.

While in the Yadkin House tour group, my mother was traveling to several out-of-state places for the first time in her life. The most distant trip of many years before had been when she and her half-sister Lessie had ridden the train to Kansas City (can’t just now recall which one).

When I was growing up, our family vacation trips were confined to visiting the North Carolina mountains attractions and relatives in the foothills: Tweetsie, Grandfather Mountain, Maggie Valley, North Wilkesboro, McGrady, respectively. (Although I used the word “confined,” it was a marvelous “confinement.”)

Our Granite Quarry School end-of-term field trips were so much fun! Sometimes, just the excitement of going somewhere was almost as exciting as thought of the destination itself!

Looking back, I feel a great sense of happiness in the thought that my mother and friends, just like my schoolmates and I, were experiencing many enjoyable trips, toward end of term.