It’s hard to believe it has already been a year since Granny passed. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think about her. Evidence of her influence on the person I am today is all around. Here are a few favorite stories I’m remembering today.
This is Granny and my handsome papaw when they were just married. Papaw fibbed to her about his age while they were dating. When they went to get their marriage certificate Granny wondered why he brought his mom with him. That’s when she found out he was actually about 3 years younger than her and needed his mom’s permission to get married. His mom passively said she knew who would wear the pants in the family. Granny replied by telling her she should have taught her son not to fib. That sass was one of her best characteristics. She and papaw kept our family in stitches.
Granny was a spitfire. This is one of my favorite pictures of her of all time because it perfectly captures her personality. These are some of the ladies she worked with at the plant. I love the eclectic mix of styles - from prissy to tomboy and a little in between. Granny is the gal on the far right – the one with the black rubber boots and a cig in her hand. Personality!
Granny had her own sense of style and liked to be well put together. I have fond memories of watching her get ready as a child. Her hair had to be just so. Lipstick and freshly painted nails were required. The purse had to be changed out to match the shoes. She kept her jewelry simple – studs or loops for the ears, a dainty gold chain with charm, watch and wedding rings. Now that I think about it, her style was girly and dainty which is quite a juxtaposition to her spitfire personality.
Granny drove this canary yellow 1969 Chevy Camaro until she couldn’t drive anymore. Can you say Hot Rod Granny? I have lots of fond memories in that car including the time that she rolled my head up in the window. My favorite is a time we were at a red light on Midland Boulevard in Fort Smith, AR. A car full of teens pulled up next to us and one of them yelled out the window, “Hey grandma! Want to race?” Granny yelled back, “Helllllll no! I don’t want to race and I’m NOT your DAMN grandma!” Then she dropped it in gear and left them in her dust.
These are just a few of the many stories I’m remembering today. God broke the mold with Granny. She was unlike any of my friends’ grandmas. I wouldn’t trade her for the world.
~Southern Fried Gal