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Posts Tagged ‘Daughter-of-eleven’

gram-s-r-lydia

This is my grandma, with her pearls, Master’s Daughter, daughter-of-eleven and my Aunt Lydia.  Aunt Lydia never married.  She said she was never going to do what a man told her to do and, since the Bible said she had to, she just was not going to get married.  After helping her put a new door up at their house once, my father came home and said that she was the most difficult, bull-headed person on earth. 

 

My mother said that was like the pot calling the kettle black.

 

 

Grandma was a quiet, uneducated woman and once asked her son, when he came home on a visit from the military, “Do you have any of them G.I.’s in your camp?”  Everyone has a story or two about things grandma said.  She did not understand a lot of the world as it moved on past her.

 

She was not a real big talker anyway.  I mostly knew her from observing.  But, she always took the time to play the piano for me.  Her right hand had a huge tumor on it and it amazed me how she could make such beautiful music. 

 

I remember her ironing too.  She had this whispery whistle that accompanied her as she worked around the house and she was always working around the house.  I rarely saw her sit down and rest.  Even with a house full of company, she was always moving and cleaning. 

 

My aunt lived with Grandma, so I am not sure whether some of the things I remember were the result of my aunt or my grandmother.  I know when paper plates came out, they had to buy a pack.  We ate our meal on those plates and they gathered them up and took them to the kitchen. 

 

The next time I went into the kitchen, there was a clothes line of paper plates hanging out to dry.    

 

It did not matter how many children were there either, grandma always made their favorite food.  She would save out lemon pie filling for the child that liked it without the crust.  She watched and listened and, whatever food was the favorite of a child, would be waiting for them, the next time they arrived.

My funniest memory, of grandma, was walking in the door one time and hearing her yelling out, “Get Him!” Gorgeous George was wrestling on her little black and white tv and my quiet grandma was cheering him on.

This is a picture of grandma with three of her four children.  The fourth child, was a girl who died at the age of six.  Left to right is my uncle Clifford, my grandmother in blue dress (Flossie VanVleck) my father Harold and my Aunt Lydia. 

 

 

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