I'd Never Done It

My mother's mother, my mamaw, was one of my favorite people in the whole world.  She had a sharp clear memory up until the end, when she died at age 102. And,  with only an elementary education she helped her husband make a fine life for their family. Mamaw, did have some health issues and suffered many strokes in her senior years. I have a distinct clear recollection of my Mamaw, after one such episode when she was 100 years young saying; "If I'd known what it was like to get old, I'd never done it." My mother shocked to hear such a statement from her mother quickly corrected; "Well, you would to."  She admitted later in the car she found the statement unlike Mamaw and concerning.

My Mamaw was a devout Christian baptized in 1914 by brother McCarty in Berry Tx when she was 12 years old. I often head her speak a about how she was ready for God to call her home; but I never once heard her speak so longingly for that journey as she did that day. She spoke of Grandy, her husband whom I had never met; and I could tell even after more than 50 years she desperately missed him. She pondered why God leaves some to wait and why he takes others so early.  Never once had I heard her question the ways of God in all my life.  She quickly self corrected herself saying He was smarter than she and surely had His reasons. She did add that she wished her job here was done, that she was ready to go home.

I think I learned more from watching my Mamaw grow old gracefully than from anyone in my life.  She did things in her time and before she had to. I learned about the concept of spending down and how to be independent with no car. I learned that aspirin, Pepto Bismal, and Milk of Magnesia could cure anything.  I learned that you are never too old to learn something new. She took art classes, basket weaving and was always working on a new Afghan.  Even after countless strokes my Mamaw would work her way well by making laps in the building she lived in even if it was one foot at a time in a wheel chair.

My favorite memories are of her putting Cheetoes in the oven to "freshen" then up when they had gone stale,  Blue Bell Ice Cream and Big Red floats, the miles we walked too Woolsworth without a car to pick up groceries and the way her garage smelled like turpentine from cleaning out her brushes.  I met Mamaw in 1976 when I was 6 years old.  She walked through life with graceful determination.

I desperately wish she were here now to help her daughter navigate these hard days and accept the help she needs. I wish I had been a better student and paid more attention. Then maybe, just maybe I would be as much help to my mom as she was to her own. We are getting there, but I just don't feel prepared enough to do this job I have been given justice.

We miss you Mamaw.