Grandmother, Part II

Grandmother at my wedding

     Grandmother did spoil us! She looked forward to Easter, in particular. I don't know why Easter was her favorite holiday, but it was. She always boiled and colored eggs for an Easter egg hunt at her house. I remember that she only dyed them yellow, pink, and blue. Her yard was made for an egg hunt! There were all kinds of shrubs and bushes. There was that Royal Poinciana tree, with its big roots and nooks and crannies. Daddy would always hide eggs in the hollow pipes that held her clothesline. Even though the egg hunts were usually just Billy and I, we still had the best time. Usually, Grandmother would have extra baskets with candy for us, and Uncle Son would give us whatever Easter baskets the Foremost Dairy had that year. And, yes, they would hide real boiled eggs in the hot Miami sun. We'd eat them for days and never once got sick.
     However, I never understood the depth of her love for us until I became a grandmother myself. It is fun to be able to spoil your grandchildren--not to have to worry about disciplining them or caring for them on a daily basis. They come to visit; you spoil them and have fun; they go home for their parents to do the hard work. Grandmother loved us enough to surrender the fun of being a grandma and accept the serious responsibility of becoming our "mother."
    When Mommy died, Grandmother came to live with us and take care of us, and Daddy. She took a break from her job; she moved from her little house and her belongings to take care of us. She gave up the life she had made for herself--her friends, her fun, her freedom. At first, she was there for about ten months. The summer after Mommy died, she and my sister moved back to her house, while my brother and I stayed with Granny. Once summer was over, Daddy decided to let me do the cooking and cleaning. Each week day, my sister stayed with a neighbor until he got home from work.  This was such a difficult time for me. For all of us. I was barely 14 and did not know much about cooking and cleaning. Grandmother came to our rescue again. She insisted that she come back and take care of us. This time, though, she sold her house so that the move was permanent. Grandmother gave up everything.
    She was no longer the grandma who spoiled us. She chose to take care of us. To cook. To clean. To discipline, when necessary. To comfort. For me, especially, she often ran interference between Daddy and me when she thought he was being unfair. Grandmother changed so much. I remember how she was so meticulous in her appearance, wearing high-heel shoes and just the right accessories. Now, instead, she wore cotton house dresses and slippers. She didn't have her hair done every week. Going to church or the doctor was just about the only reason she'd dress up. There was no way to understand just how much she gave up for us until I became a grandmother. I never argued with her, until she lived with us. The fights a teenage girl would have with her mom? I had those fights with Grandmother. She was the one who nagged me about cleaning my room or washing my clothes. And Grandmother could have never imagined that Daddy would die only five years after she moved in, leaving her as our sole parent.
    She still had one way to spoil us--with her delicious food. That never changed. When I dieted, she would make up special lunches and dinners for me. When my friends came over, she'd be sure there was tea and a little something to snack on. Honestly, I think her Sunday fried chicken helped woo my husband! In him, she found a new person to spoil
    I also have good memories of Saturday nights watching "The Lawrence Welk Show" and teasing her about her crush on Tom Netherton. She laughed at "The Jeffersons" and "All in the Family." She was obsessed with "Dallas." Uncle Son believed that, as much as she liked her shows, she enjoyed "peeping" on the neighbors more. Poor Grandmother. She couldn't look out of the front window without his accusing her of peeping.  Of course, she did get to see Mike Enterline's angry girlfriend drive her Jeep right into his house. Peeping did pay off!  We'd play 500 Rummy, and she was a card shark. Grandmother could be surprising. One night I was playing Don McLean's American Pie album. An old-timey, blue-grassy song came on. To our surprise, Grandmother lifted up her house dress, just a little bit, and started clogging away in the kitchen.
    After all she had given me, I was able to give her the one thing she wanted most--someone to spoil. When my son was born, her great-grandson, she was able to be just a grandmother again. She loved Michael with all her heart. He WAS her boy. She made his favorites for him--macaroni and cheese, cut-up hot dogs, and, of course, cornbread. It was sad that we lived hours away, but she was excited every time we brought him down. The year before Grandmother died, Michael and I came down and spent Easter with her and my sister. Grandmother was so happy to have Michael there for the whole week. I'm glad I was able to let her be just "Grandmother" for him. Michael was young when she passed, but he remembers her. She would be so happy to know that.

Michael and Grandmother, Easter 1985

    When I think of Grandmother, I think of her at the end of a long day, when she was relaxing. She'd be sitting at the corner of the couch. Her legs would be crossed. No lights on. She'd have a little glass of water with a straw on the table next to her. In her right hand, she'd have a cigarette. In her other hand, she'd be holding a clean Vienna sausage can for her ash tray. Quiet. No TV.  She'd just be thinking and smoking. Smoking and thinking.Until her death, she was always grieving for Daddy, her only and beloved son. I imagine those quiet evenings where the only times she could just sit and remember those who had left her behind. Her parents. Her husband. Her son. 

Grandmother Part I

     It's interesting how different my two grandmothers were. Granny was soft and fluffy. She would hug us and get some sugar. She was a talker--certainly a Jones family trait--and she always moved quickly. When Granny cooked or cleaned, she did it quickly. I remember how fast she could cook breakfast, dinner, and supper. And how quickly she cleaned up afterward. (Or how quickly she asked Granddaddy to help her clean up!) Granny was a washer-woman at the dairy, and she would fly through her job.
     On the other hand, Grandmother was slim. She was taciturn, and it was rare for her to control the conversation. Fast? The word did not exist in her vocabulary. Grandmother did everything very deliberately  and precisely. She started supper right after cooking breakfast. She was so slow at everything, that Uncle Son used to tell her that she'd be late to her own funeral.  Grandmother worked as an upholsterer, a profession that required preciseness. While Granny had five children, Grandmother had only my daddy and us. We saw Granny in the summer and a few times a year when she came to visit us; however, we visited Grandmother every Sunday afternoon and almost every holiday. Grandmother wasn't a hugger, nor did she tell us that she loved us, but she sure showed her love.
     My brother and I looked forward to visiting Grandmother on Sundays. After church, we'd change into play clothes, and drive down to Little River. When we got there, Sunday dinner was on the table.  Grandmother would always make fried chicken, cornbread, and, the only vegetable I remember, LeSueur's Baby English peas. She would make those just for me. Both my brother and I wanted to eat from the special dish that had been Daddy's when he was a child; Mommy made us take turns.  After dinner, the adults would go and talk, and Billy and I would play.

Daddy's Plate--fried chicken where the clown is, peas on the left, cornbread on the right

     I always took the time to read the funnies from the Miami Herald and the Miami News. Then the adventures would begin. Grandmother had a large yard, plenty of room to play. Most of the time, we would go out and play under her Royal Poinciana tree. I called it the "pickle tree" because the leaves reminded me of a big pickle cut in half. When it was in bloom, we'd pull on the branches and make it rain flowers. When the seed pods had formed, we'd use them as swords and play pirate. One of our favorite things was to take her metal lawn chairs, lay them down so the back became the seat, and pretend we were on air boats. Uncle Son had a plant nursery in the next lot, and we'd play out there.

Royal Poinciana with flowers and seed pods

     When we were tired, we'd go in and get our Sunday treats. Grandmother always had boxes of Cracker Jack for us and Pee Wees, small bottles of fruit-flavored drink, unique to South Florida.  We were always excited to see what prize we had in our Cracker Jack. The best prize was the magnifying glass--which we would promptly use to try to start a fire. Never happened. The worst prizes were the little plastic toys. Billy and I would trade prizes, at times, but that never seemed to come out fairly. Just in case that wasn't enough of a snack, often Grandmother would have Ritz cream pie, just for a little dessert. Sometimes, Uncle Son would give us a dime and walk us to the corner store to buy more candy.
     Once the adults had talked enough, we'd get back in the car and drive a few blocks to spend some time with my Grandma Crenshaw, Daddy's grandma. More treats and then the drive home. Tired, happy, full, and loved.

Cracker Cures

      I've been fighting a nasty cold, and I started thinking of the different cures my Granny and my Grandmother would use for illnesses. My own mom was a big proponent of Vick's for any sign of a cold, especially if it was turning "chesty." My daddy actually ate Vick's when he had a cold--even though the jar clearly says not for oral consumption. His other cure was more to our liking. He'd take us to the beach so he could clear out his sinuses. Granny, who was a strict teetotaler, believed in the efficacy of a well-made, very strong, hot toddy.  Sugar, water, lemon, and a generous splash of bourbon, heated on the stove, and the fortunate sick family member would sip it from a coffee cup.
     But, the cures and medicines went beyond a hot toddy for a cold. Granny was a firm believer in Black Draught. You did not have to be "bound up," as she called it, to get a dose of the Black Draught. If you weren't happy, you needed some Black Draught. If you looked a little peaky, you needed a dose of Black Draught. If SHE was feeling peaky, YOU needed that Black Draught. I promise you, I learned to smile and act happy, because one dose of Black Draught was enough for a lifetime. And her bottle looked like it was bought back in the 1930s.
     Where Granny trusted Black Draught, my Grandmother Crenshaw was a Lydia Pinkham's Pink Pills supporter. I, fortunately, never took them, but Grandmother would try to get me to take them for all kinds of problems, but especially "Women's Problems."  (Of course, she asked about those in a whisper.)

     Granny had other cures for various aliments. She used Gentian Violet salve for rashes--on humans or animals.One summer I had blisters on my hands, and she went crazy with the Epsom Salts. I had to soak my hands twice a day in a hot Epsom Salt solution. Another summer I was stung by a puss caterpillar, and she had me soak the sting in a solution of aspirin and hot water. That actually helped the pain lessen.
     The most unusual cure I ever saw Granny administer was during the summer of 1969. My cousin woke up one night with a terrible earache. He was crying in pain. There was no way Granny was going to take him to the ER for just an earache. She went into the kitchen, got a little pot, and went back down to the back bedroom. I hear her tell my cousin to get up and go pee in the pot. "Why? Why? Why do I have to pee in the pot?" She just told him to do it, and, as we all did, he obeyed.
     Granny took that pot, put it on the stove, and heated the pee up. She got an eyedropper and took it and the pot back to the bedroom. I could hear her tell my cousin to lie down and put his head in her lap. He was suspicious and asked what she was going to do. "Why, put a dropper of this in your ear. It will stop the pain."  Then the wailing and complaining began, "Granny! Don't put pee-pee in my ear! I don't want no pee-pee in my ear!"  I have to admit, I was was laughing in the other room. She dropped it in his ear; the warm pee soothed the pain; and the night ended quietly. The night also ended with my personal vow never to let her know if I had an earache or anything else wrong with me because the cure had to be worse than the illness.