iI miss my Grandma. She was perfect, mostly because she acted like she didn’t notice my bad behavior, knowing my mom take care of it. I was sure she loved me best of all her grandchildren, unaware all the grand kids felt hat way. She made the best teacakes, told the best stories, and always smelled of Johnson’s Baby Powder. Patiently, she’d let me brush her waist-length gray hair, and attempt to twist into a heavy bun, never complaining that I pulled, before finally turning it into a perfect bun and securing it with only one heavy bone pin herself with a quick flip of her wrist, once I gave it up for hopeless.
Every afternoon after lunch and her “stories” Grandma hung her cotton print housedress on a line stretched across a corner of her bedroom, let her hair down, slipped off her shoes and knee-high stockings, put her gold-rimmed spectacles carefully on the bedside table, and lie down for a nap. Continue reading →
Dana and Bill lived across from us for years. Their two kids, Betsey and Greg hung out at our house a lot. Betsey was our daughter’s age and Greg about three years younger. He hung out with the girls or me and Bud. He was a witty, cute kid and we liked having them both around. Dana, a psychiatric nurse, worked nights. She was a card-carrying mean drunk. Even if they were allowed indoors, they were only allowed to eat a pre-determined amount of food since she didn’t want them to get fat. She had locks on the cabinets and freezer. Of course, they were always hungry and ate with us. Much of the time, she locked the kids out so she could sleep. Bill, also an alcoholic, was totally whipped and didn’t protect the kids.
One afternoon, Greg rushed over to the house. “Don’t let my dad get me! He’s gonna beat my ass! Greg disappeared into the bathroom with his dad close on his heels. Bill pounded on the back door and tried to push in past Bud with a belt doubled up in his fist, none too steady on his feet. Had he thought ahead, he’d have realized that was a bad idea. Bud had four inches of reach and forty pounds on him, but Bud stayed calm.
“I’m coming in for Greg. Dana said I gotta whip him. Him and the Bailey kid got in the beer. His mama told him what was gonna happen if he got in the beer.” Bill looked shamefaced, his heart not in his errand.
“Now hold on. I can’t let you go in my house and beat a kid. There are better ways to handle this.” Bud told him. “Go back home and sober up. Looks like y’all have both had plenty of beer.”
“Alright, I won’t come bustin’ in over you, but I’m gonna beat his ass when he gets home.” Bill offered.
“I’d think real hard about that.” Bud told him. “If you do that, you’ll have to deal with me. Go on home. Your boy can stay here till you’re sober and we’ll talk about it.” Bill left, seeming somewhat relieved at not having to deal with anything he’d stirred up.
Bud called Greg out. “Greg, you know you’re not old enough to drink. I wouldn’t let you drink either. You can stay here till I talk to your Dad and it’s safe to go home.”
The next day Bill came over and talked to the three of us, Greg, Bud, and me. “Dana said he can come home, but he’s going to Pine Hill. (Adolescent Psychiatric Facility) Get your stuff, boy.”
Bud asked Greg. “Is that what you want to do?”
“No sir. Can I stay here a few more days?” Greg asked.
“That’s between you and your dad. What do you think, Bill?”
“I gotta talk to Dana. She’s still pretty worked up.” Bill answered.
Greg stayed, not causing a minute of trouble. We weren’t foolish enough to think the problem was solved. We just wanted him safe. Four days later, Dana came to see Greg. “Do you want to come home? We miss you. You’ve been punished enough.”
“Am I still in trouble? Dad ain’t gonna whip me is he? I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Greg looked worried.
“No. I promise. Dad ain’t going to whip you and we aren’t to put you in the hospital. Just stay out of the beer.” She told him.
He went home to an apparently peaceful house, for the moment.
Over the next couple of years the family dynamics changed, not by choice. Dana got cancer and didn’t live long. She was heavily medicated and continued to drink, so her involvement was less each day. When she got too sick to work, they had to find a cheaper place to live. The children grew up and we lost touch, except for a time or two. The last I heard, Greg was doing well enough to move out on his own. Betsey was in and out of a couple of relationships, but eventually settled down, married, and had a couple of kids. The last I heard, she was going to nursing school.I hope for the best for these kids.
Kathleen Holdaway Swain
Mother working in the yard
Mother checking out cemetery lots.
I am posting videos from my youtube account for those of you who want to see my mother in action. She is available for hire! Enjoy.
I miss my Grandma. She was perfect, mostly because she acted like she thought I was, not noticing any bad behavior, knowing my mom would act on it. I was sure she loved me best of all her grandchildren, unaware she made us all feel that way. She made the best teacakes, told the best stories, and always smelled of Johnson’s Baby Powder. Patiently, she’d let me brush her waist-length gray hair, and attempt to twist into a heavy bun, never complaining that I pulled, before finally turning it into a perfect bun and securing it with only one heavy bone pin herself with a quick flip of her wrist, once I gave it up for hopeless.
Trouble had its own plan and always lurked in the shadows waiting to jump me. The simplest thing could go wrong. There was just no way to anticipate what was down the road. Billy and Troy were out of pocket when Uncle Parnell was ready to leave. Daddy sent me and Sue to look for them. Jamey and Froggy told us they had seen Continue reading →
Trouble had its own plan and always lurked in the shadows waiting to jump me. The simplest thing could go wrong. There was just no way to anticipate what was down the road. Billy and Troy were out of pocket when Uncle Parnell was ready to leave. Daddy sent me and Sue to look for them. Jamey and Froggy told us they had seen them close to the railroad track. Daddy had told us many times not to let him catch us on the railroad track. We played close to it all the time, but out of consideration to him, were very careful not to let him catch us. Jamey and Froggy went along to help us. Near the railroad, we found Billy’s sling shot. I knew he would never have abandoned it. This was serious!!!! Froggy slipped under the fence and scrambled up into one of the railcars, pulling Jamey up after him. We heard them exclaiming, “Golleeeee…would you look at this! Continue reading →
Squeaky crapped my pants! Really! Just in case you didn’t read my earlier post. I bought “Smarty Kitty” off an infomercial when I was seduced by the idea of a cat using toilet, instead of the cat box. Never mind that Squeaky had been happily using his cat box without fail for the entire five years since we adopted him. Now, he won’t go near it, leaving surprises in the bathtub, on towels, on rugs, in my sewing basket……..I am frustrated by the mess and feel guilty for confusing him. I’ve considered euthanasia, for me, not him, but that seems unethical since I took him out of a shelter and promised him a good home. Continue reading →
I miss my Grandma. She was perfect, mostly because she acted like she didn’t notice my bad behavior, knowing my mom take care of it. I was sure she loved me best of all her grandchildren, unaware all the grand kids felt hat way. She made the best teacakes, told the best stories, and always smelled of Johnson’s Baby Powder. Patiently, she’d let me brush her waist-length gray hair, and attempt to twist into a heavy bun, never complaining that I pulled, before finally turning it into a perfect bun and securing it with only one heavy bone pin herself with a quick flip of her wrist, once I gave it up for hopeless.
Every afternoon after lunch and her “stories” Grandma hung her cotton print housedress on a line stretched across a corner of her bedroom, let her hair down, slipped off her shoes and knee-high stockings, put her gold-rimmed spectacles carefully on the bedside table, and lie down for a nap. Continue reading →
Nutsrok 