Granny would’ve been ninety-five years old last month. These glimmers worked themselves loose over the past few weeks. I’ve missed her physical presence dearly the last sixteen years, but she’s with me everyday, whether I’m in the ‘Hoopee swamp or sitting under the magnolia tree here at the farm that she planted seventy years ago. What’s that saying? Plant trees for your grand kids. Now her grandkids, great grands, and great, great, grands enjoy it. Thank you, Granny, for all that you were to me and know that your legacy continues to live on.
1. She Taught Me How to Fish
Sitting on the dam of the small wooded pond in front of Aunt Willie’s house, Granny took a wriggly red worm out of the container. We dug these out of the old refrigerator worm bed behind her trailer.
“Now look here, honey.” she said as she took the worm between her fingers on one hand and she was holding a straight hook in the other. She pierced the worm with the tip of the hook and then pushed it up on the shaft of the hook like a sock. The other end of the worm was dangling a bit.
“That’s what will tempt them to bite.” she said behind her large round glasses. We tossed the line from our cane poles out into the pond and watched with bated breath for our corks, taped on with black electrical tape from her huge tackle purse, to start bobbing.
2. She Taught Me to Love Birds
Playing Scrabble at her small kitchen table, Granny said, “Shhhh…you hear that, honey?” I nodded. “That’s a covey of quail.” she continued. “If you sneak over there by that window, you can probably see them.”
Sure enough as I peered out the window to her old metal trash can lid full of bird seed, there was a female quail and four little ones. At Granny’s home, especially on cool spring mornings, all the windows would be open and it was almost like you were outside with the towhees, cardinals and wrens, especially since her home was only 12 feet wide.
During the summer, you could sit at the kitchen table and watch dozens of hummingbirds swarming around her red sugar water feeders. If there were no birds to watch outside, you could always pick up her latest copy of Birds and Blooms magazine and thumb through it for a quick birding fix. Granny’s place was an oasis for birds of all kinds.
3. She Taught Me to Love Flowers
Following Granny around as she dead headed her baskets of impatiens, bushy four o’clocks, and old fashioned petunias, she would say, “See honey, if you take off the old flowers, you’ll get even more flowering later.” It would be years before my young mind understood that dead heading directed the plant’s energy away from seed production and back into flowering.
In the early spring, she would take me around her little yard and point out “volunteers” that she would dig up and place somewhere she could love and nurture them into a yard full of blooms. These “volunteers” were the babies of the previous year’s flowers. She had several lantana bushes that she would tell me “all started with one little lantana she dug up in a parking lot.”
About once a week, she would mix up a blue liquid from Peter’s fertilizer and used a metal pot to feed all her containers of flowers. Granny’s yard was like a magical wonderland and attracted so many colorful butterflies and moths. Once I had a place of my own, she would pot up “volunteers” for me to take home with me when I came to visit.
4. She Taught Me that Food is Love
Walking into Granny’s humble abode, I can smell something heavenly baking. “Honey, come on in and sit down. I just put us some biscuits in the oven.” I sit down at her kitchen table just to the right of the front door, not realizing how hungry I was.
Within a few minutes, she opens the toaster oven and removes the browned biscuits, setting them in the middle of the table. Then she gets a little pot out of the refrigerator and sets it on the green stove, lights the burner beneath it, and comes to sit down across from me. She says, “I’ll heat us up some stewed chicken and gravy I had leftover from yesterday to eat with these biscuits.”
Just a simple repast at Granny’s had the power to make any heartaches or worries dissipate. Once your belly was full, her best advice for whatever ailed you was, “Just do the best you can.”
5. She Taught Me How to Let Go
Sitting down by her bedside that evening, Granny’s grey-blue eyes fluttered open. It was the first time I had seen them in several days. She patted my hand and spoke the most lucid words I had heard from her in weeks. “Honey, go on home and fix your family a good supper.” I protested and told her they had leftovers, but she insisted. Gesturing to the far corner of the room she said, “I’ll be fine, they’re all here.”
She had been speaking with long gone ancestors for days. I did as she said and went home. The next morning, I felt like I needed to stop by the hospice house to check on her before I went to work. As I walked into the room, I noticed her slackened jaw and knew she was no longer in that body. I went to the nurse’s station to let them know.
Then I walked outside to watch the squirrels scurrying up the oak trees on this November morning, trying to collect the last of the acorns for the coming winter months. I listened to the birds singing and a swallowtail butterfly floated by. I could feel her spirit out there among the wild things and a little tornado of fallen oak leaves swirled across the ground. It felt like she was saying, “I’m free, but I’m with you always.”
Thank you for reading and please share your favorite memory of your grandparents and what you learned from them in the comments. Be sure to record these memories somewhere for your children and grandchildren to enjoy one day.
Many blessings to you for the week ahead. See you soon!
Becki
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As always, I love to read the tales from your family. Your granny would be so proud of you. And I hope all the tales of the ohoopee find their way into a book!!❤️❤️
I spent a lot of time with my maternal grandma. She cooked, she baked, she made butter, she grew African Violets, she cared for me. And, I could go on and on. Today I carry her with me.