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| James and Malinda |
This is a picture of my daddy's maternal grandparents. She, Malinda, was the mother of my Grandma Edwards, and he, James, her father I didn't ever know him. I do remember her a bit, but barely.
What I remember very clearly is the day she died. I was not yet 4-years-old.
My daddy and my oldest brother were down in the swamp behind our little house. Great-grandma and my spinster aunt Lena (Have you heard the word "spinster" recently?) lived about half a mile from us. "Sister", which was Lena's nickname to our family, came running as fast as she could and told us that Grandma was not acting "well". Sister looked down at me, licked her fingers and tried with sincerity, but futility, to rub my cowlick down yet again.
She shook her head and looked at Mama and asked where Daddy was. Mama replied he was down at the river, cutting down beech trees with Lynn. Mama said she would run and get him, and that we would be up there soon.
I heard Sister said there was no need to hurry now, but Daddy would need to drive his car when he came.
She shook her head and looked at Mama and asked where Daddy was. Mama replied he was down at the river, cutting down beech trees with Lynn. Mama said she would run and get him, and that we would be up there soon.
I heard Sister said there was no need to hurry now, but Daddy would need to drive his car when he came.
Soon , we were walking up there, Mama and I---with Daddy in the kitchen at our house, trying to wash up a bit. I remember Mama holding my hand as we walked, and she talked in the voice she used when things weren't right but she didn't want me to know it. I may have been little, but I guess was what people called an "old soul."
When we got up there in just the minutes, Sister looked at Mama and shook her head slowly. Mama asked if it would be okay if I came in, too. She nodded, but murmured, "She wet the bed when she went; will you help me get things straight soon? Everyone will be coming when they hear."
(We didn't have phones, running water, or any sort of indoor plumbing, just like many people out in the country those days.)
"She wet the bed when she went...." kept running through my mind.
Wet the bed?
Gramma?
But that doesn't happen to grown-ups! Doesn't she know better? Even I don't do that anymore!
And the words "when she went"
Went where?
She was still lying on her high feather bed, fast asleep! I saw her through the doorway.
Gramma---she was still there! But, when I looked down.....there was something like water under her high bed. It was moving slowly , moving toward my shoes, and Mama shooed me out to the porch.
more next time, friends....may you bless and be blessed
"She wet the bed when she went...." kept running through my mind.
Wet the bed?
Gramma?
But that doesn't happen to grown-ups! Doesn't she know better? Even I don't do that anymore!
And the words "when she went"
Went where?
She was still lying on her high feather bed, fast asleep! I saw her through the doorway.
Gramma---she was still there! But, when I looked down.....there was something like water under her high bed. It was moving slowly , moving toward my shoes, and Mama shooed me out to the porch.
more next time, friends....may you bless and be blessed
Waiting to hear the rest. I'm thinking it's a sad story. Hugs, ♥
ReplyDeleteSweetie--it was sad ...but I was so little, I kinda didn't really get so much then.
DeleteLike you, I was born an old soul. And, now it seems I remember a lot from my childhood, but not so much of recent things. You're a beautiful writer.
ReplyDeletexoxo
Thank you, Sally for saying I am a beautiful writer. That is such a sweet thing to say, and to hear. And for letting me know I am not the ONLY one whose memory might be "failing" a bit` I don't get out so much anymore, so I don't have a lot of people to "talk to", so I'm counting on my online, blogging friends to help me with stuff like this :)
Delete