Grandma and Granddaddy

You know they say that all of your life experiences are what help make you who you are. I am sure that is so, but people have always been interesting to me. My maternal grandmother and I use to "people watch" all the time. Because of her intense interest in folks, I am still a "people watcher".

My relationship with my paternal grandparents was not as close as the one I shared with my maternal grandmother; however, I did spend some time with them and did love them.

On Sunday mornings my Mother and I would go to my grandparent's house and pick them up for church. I don't know if we were always early or if they were always late, but inevitably we always had to wait on them and many times help them finish dressing.

Granddaddy was about 5'8" or so and very round. It was my job on Sunday mornings to help him put his belt on. It seemed to little six year old me that the loops were endless. Once he buckled his belt, he would grab me and rub his nubby whiskers on my face, making me screech and kick driving my Mama crazy.

Grandma had long, thick, silver hair that she would brush and then put up on the back of her head in a bun. She was a large woman and always wore a dress. In the middle of the dress was a brooch of some sort. They didn't always match her dress, but she wore one anyway. She had big calves and ankles that seemed to lay over the top of her shoes (which were always very sensible and not necessarily fashionable). There was something about her that always scared me just a little.

I would occassionaly spend the night with them and with my cousin that lived with them. The house was an old one with open rooms, no hallway, they all were connected by doorways. You might have to go through one bedroom to get to another bedroom. The bathroom was on the back porch. Grandma kept a slop jar under her bed in case she needed to "go" during the night. My cousin and I slept in a room that had two beds in it that she shared with her mother. My grandparent's room joined it and the door was never shut.

One night in particular that I spent the night, my cousin's Mama got us ready for bed and tucked us all in. The old floors in the house creaked under the weight of Grandma and Granddaddy as they got ready for bed. I could hear them talking in their room and hear the bed creak as they both plopped down. The lights were out and I was almost asleep when I heard one of them let out a rip roaring fart followed by a, "Huh". A few minutes later the other one let out a fart louder than the first one, followed by another, "Huh". This kept up for a least fifteen minutes. My cousin was used to this and didn't pay it any attention, but my giggle box was turned on and I couldn't stop giggling! I had never heard tell of a fart competition, and sure didn't expect one from my grandparents!

Now Grandma was a praying woman. In the morning she would get in the kitchen and before starting breakfast she would get down on her knees and pray. Her prayers were loud enough to wake up everyone in the house as she intended for God to hear her! Lord knows with her family she had lots to say to God and he sure didn't need to miss a sylable.

In his older years, Graddaddy was a little hard of hearing and was a rascal. He loved to play checkers with me. Of course he did! I was six or seven and he could beat the fire out of me! He was quite the competitor. He showed no signs of pity on his little granddaughter. He would laugh and laugh when he beat me as if he had beaten the King of England.

Strange what you remember as a child. Their house always seemed so busy. People were always coming and going. It was if there was always an undercurrent of restlessness. It was as if no one in the house was content being there, yet no one seemed to know how to get out. Bitterness always seemed to be lurking just beneath the surface. As a child I just didn't know about all the skeletons that were hiding in the closet.