This weekend I was greatly reminded of my grandmother by visiting my friend Larry in Booneville, Missouri. Larry reminds me of my loving, gentle, generous grandmother in many ways. My grandmother was my support and encouragement from an early age. She was reared with 10 brothers and sisters in and around Grand Prairie, Texas. She was small in stature, but strong in spirit. She and her family picked cotton and didn’t have an easy life. I often wonder what happened in that family back then, for there was always a secret that none of them spoke of, yet, was always on their minds. Over the years most passed this earthly plane from cancer, a few took their own lives, and my grandmother passed quietly while I was with her at home. She went to be with her Lord, as she said, in 2003 not long after her 90th birthday.
Flowers and beauty filled her thoughts and life. A love of nature and people helped her to find enjoyment. I remember back to the farm I loved so dearly. Every year granny would plant these large hanging baskets with flowers and hang them from the trees in the yard. By summer’s end the flowers would have grown to the ground, filling the yard with color. She always grew vegetables and loved being in her gardens. Another love was her roses. She loved yellow roses. The driveway to the small house at the farm was lined with them. During the winters she loved to be out in the woods and pastures burning and clearing the debris from the previous year’s woodcutting.
I always enjoyed being with her working in the garden or burning stumps. I learned my love of gardening from her and my ability to build a great fire. Yes, you might say I’m a pyromaniac. (I laugh quietly as I hear her words of how to build a good fire.)
She always had to be busy and worked long after retirement. She drove a school bus for many years, and she owned and operated a variety store where she created beautiful floral arrangements. She played piano for the churches, including those where my grandfather preached. She enjoyed music. I remember running around the store as a child and helping her create flower arrangements. It was a simple store but as a child it seemed to be a magical place with all of the things therein. She worked hard all of her life, I suppose because that’s all she knew from an early age. I believe she never went past the 9th grade, and she didn’t get to start the first year because she was so small they wouldn’t let her walk to school, but they sure did let her pick cotton. She often told me of her adventures and skills at cotton picking, and I can just see her out in the fields pulling that long cotton sack behind her.
She married my grandfather because she said he liked her cooking, so did I. They lived in separate rooms for as long as I can remember and shared their lives in an uncommon way – living together, but apart. She was devoted to being his wife, preparing his meals, cleaning the house, and taking care of him; as she believed a wife should. I have heard that my grandfather had many affairs, and I’m not surprised. I once asked my granny about this and she said, “Sex wasn’t good, once a year was good enough for her”. Her and I often laughed about everything. She was always supportive of my many ideas and adventures. I learned to stick with things from her constant encouragement to finish the project. “Just do a little at a time and keep going till it’s done,” she would say.
At a time when many didn’t support my ‘coming out’, she did. She would often prepare an extra cup of coffee for my guests. Not that I had many guests when we lived together as they would have to be something of import for me to bring them there to meet her. I learned a love of ‘Jesus’ from her, but now realize it as understanding the divinity of self and others. Everyone loved my granny. She taught us how to water-ski, along with all of our friends. She was the one who drove us to all of the rodeos on the weekends, took us water skiing, and in general encouraged us to do what we enjoyed. I can still see one time at the Lake of Plain Dealing (originally built to keep the small town from flooding) when all of us were skiing. The shore was full of people. I could see them laugh when we asked if she was ready to ski. I always laughed because I could tell they didn’t think this small older lady could ski. When she was ready she said, ‘lets go’ and put her ski jacket on, along with her gloves, and grabbed her large water ski. She would whisper go a short bit around and come back long by the shore. I knew she was going to show off. The boat engine hummed and up she came out of the blue, cool water. We drove a short bit around then back to shore. She put the rope between her legs, raised her arms, and danced a jig as she glided past the people on the shore, waving as she passed. What a show off. We all laughed.
I can recall many adventures with my grandmother, but I wanted to share these for now because she was strong on my mind. She was and still is an important part of my life. I can still hear her talking to me about how to build a fire, how to care for the irises growing here at the cabin, and to get myself in church. I think she knew the importance of being with people and a love of God.
Since her departure from this physical plane I have often thought about developing a special rose garden – The Vera B. Lee Memorial Rose Garden. I see it lined with a picket fence, sculptures of children gracing the beauty of the roses (she loved children and said they kept her young), it being lined with yellow roses, and other roses of various colors filling the middle. I see some Wandering Jew plants growing from hanging baskets. I see some benches for sitting to enjoy the beauty of the space. I hope one day I can create this garden as I know she and others would enjoy it.
Thought for now: Who was your encouragement? Who supported you when others said you couldn’t?
