The Fine Details

One of mine and my husband’s favorite things to do is sit and reflect on our childhood; more specifically time spent with our grandparents. We laugh about the little things, and are generally amazed at how specific our memories can be. No matter how hard I try, there are just some things about my grandparents that I will always remember.

My mom’s mother-my Granny—smoked Virginia Slim cigarettes and drank her coffee from a green mug with sugar and cream. Oddly enough, that’s exactly how I drink mine. Sweet enough to cut the coffee taste, but strong enough for the caffeine kick. She never used a coffee pot, unless she was at her store. All of the years I can remember, when she wanted coffee, she boiled water in a kettle and poured it directly over her Maxwell House. And she drank it ALL day. Not just in the mornings…all. day. long. She ate chocolate covered cherries at Christmas like there was no tomorrow. Seriously. It was kind of crazy how many of those things she’d eat. And cooking? Holy cow. She made the best lasagna EVER and could whip up more Christmas candy in two days than an entire bakery could in a week. A habit that [thankfully] my mom inherited so we don’t completely do without candy over the holidays.

She sewed like no one I know. Everything. Whenever it became a fashion trend, she picked it up. I remember when the homemade purses were a hit. She spent HOURS at the sewing machine making purses and handbags…one of which I distinctly remember having big, white goose feathers on it. I still have the Christmas Tree skirt she made me when I was younger, as well as the green Christmas stocking she helped me sew for 4-H when I was in 4th grade. She bought me my first diamond [a necklace when I was in 8th grade for being Valedictorian] and the letter that came with it is framed in our bedroom. She had a knack for business and was truly one of my biggest supporters. Never once did she tell me I couldn’t do something. She stayed on me about my grades all the time and cheered me on in everything that I ever wanted to do. But she was a personality. Haha. She was one of a kind. She had no fear of telling you what she really and truly thought about you and that earned her respect from people.

My dad’s mother-my Maw—was one of the sweetest little ladies, ever. I remember making homemade chicken and dumplings with her as a child. She’d roll out her dough using an old, heavy, wooden rolling pin and cut them up really neat. She made the best butterbeans known to man and ate Raisin Nut Bran and Honey Nut Clusters for breakfast [two of my all-time favorite cereals]. She used to mix her orange juice and her sweet tea in a little round pitcher and drank it from a tin cup. She wore Cover Girl powder that came in a Dark Blue compact, bright pink lipstick and Cover Girl blush. She used bright green plastic rollers with pink pins to do her hair. She always smelled like baby powder. I remember when I was little that her comforter was blue and pink and excessively heavy. She always slept with feather pillows that had ZERO support in them. One of my favorite pieces of jewelry is the gold diamond ring that she gave me for my 13th birthday. It was her aunts engagement ring and I was always in love with that piece of jewelry.

She was always cooking something. Always. Cookies, pies, cakes…didn’t matter. When I was in Elementary School I used to walk to her house after school. She’d meet me at the corner stop sign and we’d go to her house. She always had homemade peanut butter cookies [that she patted out by hand…never did she use a fork to smash them out] and we’d drink Vanilla milkshakes or homemade lemonade. She always listened to my stories, and she’d always tell me some of hers—how she would go dancing when she was a teenager; how frisky she had once been, how handsome my Paw Paw looked in his Navy Uniform. She kept her diary from when she was 16 and used to let me read it. I thought it was the most interesting piece of literature ever. She kept an old box of fabric in her closet that we used to play dress-up with. She never told me “no” to playtime and imagination. She helped me build my first Ventriloquist Dummy out of a brown paper bag and newspaper when I was in 5th grade. Not sure what ever happened to that hideous thing…She was Bob Barkers biggest fan by far and thought that All My Children “quality television.”

My dads mom—my Paw Paw—was a Braves baseball fan through and through. He always sat in his big [ugly] brown recliner that looks like it came straight from the set of the Brady Bunch or something. He used to work at a mini mart and used to bring my baby sister bubble gum. He used to get me these old pixi-stick type things…they were the flavored powders in plastic containers in the shapes of fruit. He was a stickler for feet on the furniture. And in all of my years going to their house, I only ever remember then getting ONE new piece of furniture. Paw Paw used to make these really fabulous fried biscuits that were basically a heart-attack waiting to happen. They oozed of butter and cheese…but they were divine. He ate plain Cornflakes for breakfast with a few packs of Sweet-N-Low dumped on top…until he discovered Splenda. He always had a Kleenex or a Paper Towel shoved in his pocket, and generally left them laying all over the place.

He used to spend his afternoons just sitting in his yard. For a while he’d talk to the neighbors, and other times he’d just sit out…reflecting, I guess. I never really knew what it was he sat outside and thought about. He was a World War II Veteran and never talked much about his time in the Navy. The only real memory I have of him talking about his war time, was the day he enlisted. His brother went with him to sign up…he wanted to join the Army, his brother wanted to join the Navy. His brother went first, said he wanted to join the Navy and they put him in the Army. My Paw Paw went next, said that he wanted to join the Army because they’d just enlisted his brother in the Army…they put him in the Navy. And his brother was KIA before he ever saw him again. Oh. And he was a stickler for his political beliefs—stickler as in, he thought they were all crooks and liars.

What about you? What are some of your best memories of your grandparents? Any tiny little details about them that stand out more than others?

{Christmas 2008 with my Paw Paw…Noah’s first Christmas}