Terry & Susan - 1954

I hold fondest memories of my grandmother from parading around in her high heels to her teaching me how to make biscuits. After my birth "Mama" visited frequently to be near Mother and me, but with Daddy being stationed in the military, I did not see her as often in my early school years. However, I never failed to write her and she always took the time to answer each letter where many times she would enclose a dollar bill, recent snapshot, or S&H green stamps. Often times a surprise package came addressed to me with a jar or two of her homemade plum or grape jelly.

I especially enjoyed visiting Mama in the country, and who would get to sleep with her? Mostly me, of course! We kids would fight over who would sleep with Mama. Her only admonishment to us was not to fidget: "Sug," she'd gently say, "quit fanning the covers!"

And remember that old saying, "If I knew you were coming, I would have baked a cake?" Well, I can't recall a time Mama didn't have a cake baked for company. The granddaddy of them all had to be that carrot cake she was so notorious for making! I swear; it'd take a crane to lift it!

The home-cooked meals were equally as memorable. Seems like we were no more through polishing off a plate of her grits, red-eye gravy and buttermilk biscuits, then she'd be back in the kitchen--cast-iron pots clanging--with the smell of cracklin' cornbread and ham baking, along with fresh collard greens and new potatoes steaming. We'd have the leftovers at suppertime since nothing at her house ever went to waste for Mama was thrifty, shopping for bargains, keeping all her loose buttons in mason jars--never throwing away fabric scraps--because she could use these to make quilts. She was ingenious with children, too (after all, she reared six). If we got a little underfoot, she'd hand out jars of buttons and fabric swatches for sewing on buttons or embroidery.

Adorning her bedroom wall was the antique sewing machine with its manual foot petal and from where one could hear the soft humming of that old machine which purred like a kitten. During the Depression Mama made her daughters' clothes using fabric from flour sacks. Mother said those fabric sacks were quite brocade and made darling, little frocks. She never used store-bought patterns, either, always looking smart in her designer dresses, complete with a pocketbook that held everything but the kitchen sink. Why, she even had me trace and cut a pattern of my small feet from a paper bag so she could send me proper school shoes!

Mama was a bit of a worrier, though, and because she was so protective and loving, she worried that we weren't dressed properly to suit the weather or weren't eating enough. But without a doubt, she was an excellent hostess, never rude or fussy and when we had to leave, she'd cry to see us go.

To this day, I can recall the old homestead where Mama kept a spic-and-span house with Papa's prized roses in the trellis and off to the side, a pen full of pigs who dined on her table scraps, a yard rooster with vocal chords honed to sing tenor, and a few, fussy biddies that gave her fresh eggs. A favorite place for company to congregate was around the porch swing and rockers while we kids romped about in the old barn that set directly across from the house on the dirt road. And oh how we'd beg to go to the creek for a dip! Mama, who couldn't drive, would have Papa chauffer us. And although she preferred attending to the household chores, she'd accompany us anyway with a packed picnic and plenty of towels.

When I was old enough to vacation on my own, small wonder I'd hop on a bus headed to Bonifay. To this day, I remember Mama's low chuckle, witty nature, velvety skin, her soft, brown hair never allowed to gray and soothing voice that crooned me lullabies. Not only was this woman Papa's girl, but she was Susan's girl, too! I absolutely adored her from the moles on her face to the sweet corns on her feet. "Mama, do you have any idea how much I miss you, Sug?"