By Joan Wilson (from her book “Buried Treasures”)

 

Sometimes I let my thoughts run wild when I’m sitting idle

My mind just wanders and wanders going back in time

And in the middle of my thoughts are my parents –

So big and strong – nothing but beautiful memories cloud my mind

Whether we were swimming or just playing games in the garden

There was a feeling of always being loved.

 

And watched over by some caring neighbour

Who showed concern and fussed but always kept a watchful eye on us.

This is Cayman going back some years

When times were such and we didn’t have much

Worry was not a way of life but simple contentment amongst us all existed.

 

Those days we farmed and fished and there were those who wished

They could see the world or a part of it.

Once a month maybe a boat would arrive

And you should’ve seen us come alive

As down to the dock we’d strut all excited.

 

 

We were dressed to the gills

And some of us even wore frills

And you can bet your life they were made right here in Cayman.

Loved ones were coming or going

And families were always showing how much they cared.

 

 

 

This too, was Cayman of yesteryear

When we didn’t have cause to fear

For the island was free of crime – all we really had was time.

Time to sit and talk with each other,

Time to sing or walk with another – we didn’t have much bother.

 

Except mosquitoes – stinging us night and day

How we prayed they’d go a way!

But that was an island time forgot

When on the map we were just a spot

And long before man to the moon was shot.

 

When land crabs and sea turtles were abound

No banks, tourists or dive boats could be found,

And only foreign seaplanes landed in the Sound.

 

When woman’s place was in the home

And when our children didn’t roam.

When bicycles were used instead of cars

And when the island had only two bars –

 

Imagine!