A Special Birthday Memoir- Grandma

Today is January 14, 2019. It is the day before Martin Luther King's January 15 birthday.

And January 14, 2019 was also my grandmother's birthday. She was born January 19, 1929.

She passed in June of last year. If she would have lived, she would have been 90 years old today.

It is a blessing to live to be 89 years old. I know we all would hope to live that long.

I must admit I miss her so much. For so many years, I would call her up early on her birthday and wish her a happy birthday. I always remembered because she is one day older than Martin Luther King would have been if he was alive.

And we always played a game. I was born when she was 40 years old. So she would always break down my age based on hers.

I could not call her today, for she is no longer here. And if felt so strange.

My blog is some 13 years old. I am happy for that because I have so many pictures here. And it was nice to go back and pick out some old pictures of my grandmother.

It was nice to take time to remember her.


Grandma with her first great-grandson Champ.

Grandma with her walking stick, for just in case she needed to smack a dog upside the head.

I'd attended my paternal aunt's funeral near her home one Saturday, and I surprised her with a visit. She was sitting on her front porch cracking walnuts.

Grandma standing on her front porch. I was trying to leave, and she always watches me get in the car and drive up the street.

Grandma with two of her great-grandson's, the Milk and Cookies crew, Shawn and Tristan, aka Milk and Cookies Jr. and Milk and Cookies 3.0.

Grandma with her great-granddaughter Mya. She bugged me until I drove her over to see her.

My grandmother and grandfather, and my mother and auntie. This was back in the 50s, around the time of the Korean conflict.

Grandma on her front porch. I'd arrived to take her to one of her doctor's appointment.

Grandma with Milk and Cookies some 12 years ago. We'd gone to Red Lobster to have lunch, and to see him in action on his very first job. He was 16 or 17 at the time.

A visit with Grandma some 6 years ago after she'd been in the hospital.

A picture of Grandma at her oldest niece Virginia's funeral. Grandma loved a good funeral.

Grandma holding my sister Kentucky's baby. He was definitely a preemie here. And grandma was so happy to hold another great-grandson.

A picture of Grandma from the 70s. She was looking so serious.

And finally, Grandma's shock at seeing Milk and Cookies tattoo. That was a hilarious day.

These are but a few of so many memories that I have of my grandmother. But it was so nice to go back and relive all these wonderful memories.

I only wish I could sit and talk with her one more time.

I miss her so so much.

Rest in peace, Grandma.

Repost: Shock and Awe!

Here is a repost of a time with grandma circa April 2006, some 12 years ago.

In this one, Grandma was shocked by my brother's tattoo... and my Auntie's gun.

It was one of the funniest moments we've had over the years.



Shock and Awe!!!

…Is what these pets felt when their pictures were snapped…





Shock and Awe!!!
… Is what Grandma felt when seeing my baby brother’s tattoo of a smashed bug, um, I mean tribal symbol on his right arm for the very first time.



My brother and I had joined my Auntie, Uncle, and Grandma last weekend for a dinner of homemade calzones and hot apple pie, while watching the movie War of the Worlds. Then I said the magic words…

“Roll up your sleeve and show Mama (grandma) that tattoo, boy!”

Grandma has a very light voice, and you better pay very close attention and lean in real close if you want to hear what she’s saying…

All she could do was point at it. All I heard for a moment from her was…

"Oooooh, Look a there, look a there!"

She asked the smiling boy several questions, many of which I couldn’t hear. She asked him if his skin would be alright. She wanted to know if it would form keloids, since it was still in the process of healing. He said it was alright, just scabbing up a little…

That really made Grandma’s day! She wasn’t expecting to see all that!

I’d been screaming that it looked like a smash bug all week. (LadyTee thought it looked like a wide-legged ant. I howled when I heard that description.)

But Auntie hipped me to the deal… earlier in the week, after reviewing some pictures of the tattoo that I’d emailed her, she calmly explained that she watches the show Miami Ink, and that the tattoo was indeed some special symbol, most likely tribal. It was definitely a symbol similar to those on some of his medieval swords.

So that shot our smashed bug theory to the ground.

Auntie had spoken, and that was basically the final word.

This little episode had me thinking about one of my funniest Auntie stories…

My Auntie J is my mother’s younger sister. For many years, I thought that “Auntie” was her real name. But my Auntie is a bit different from most Aunts…

When she buys a car, it is usually a Camaro, which she likes to drive really fast. I remember one day some 20 years ago, when she'd just bought a new Camaro, she took me for a ride. She wanted to show me how when she hit the gas suddenly, how our heads would go back and hit the headrest… This left me a bit terrified. I’m sure she has slowed down now, but whenever I see the big letter tires on her Camaro… I don’t know…
Why don’t I just skip catching a ride with her…

Yeah, that sounds good.

Auntie has always been like a mother to me and my younger siblings. We can talk to her about anything and get good advice, without any weird adverse judgements and/or “side effects.” So basically, if we need to make a confession, this is who we all talk to (MUCH to my mother’s dismay).

Well anyway, my Aunt and my brother get along fabulously, as for as long as I can remember, they have some of the same interests: cartoons, tattoos (even though she doesn’t have any), medieval knives (my brother collects them and she has found places to buy such bizarre items for him), motorcycles/choppers, and of course, fast cars…

And other things….

A couple of years ago, my siblings and I were at my Auntie’s house celebrating her birthday. Grandma was there also. Auntie was opening her birthday gifts after dinner. I don’t remember what I gave her. She’s has her own photo restoration business and she is an artist, so I am sure it may have been a book or something related to that, and a DVD movie of some sort, since she loves movies.

Well she (my Auntie) jumped up all excited…

“I gotta show ya’ll what Sean [her husband, my uncle] bought me for my birthday!!” she yelled. Her voice is almost as light as Grandma's but we can hear what she's saying if the room ain't all noisy.

She retrieved a medium sized gift bag from the floor and sat it gently on the table. The bag was a beautiful pink bag (I believe it was a Winnie the Pooh theme bag), with lots of nice pretty pink tissue paper sticking out of the top. I was shocked that my Uncle could pick such a nice bag for a gift!

I’m thinking to myself that was nice of Uncle Sean to go buy her something nice and to place it in such a beautiful bag.

Well she proceeds to gently dig down in the bag and bring out a lovely black case.



It must be a case of oil paints, I thought. That’s nice. For as far back as I can remember, she has always loved to paint with oils. I have fond memories as a child of her meticulously explaining to me how she mixed her oils on a palette, just to get the right shade of blue or tan, whatever blended color she was looking to achieve.

She opened the case. There was no beautiful metal tubes of oil paints…

She opened the case and pulled out a big ass black gun!!




She held it up in her hand and nodded as she admired it.

I gasped. Shock and awe was what I felt!

My brother couldn’t contain himself.

“Oooooh weeee Auntie, it’s a Bee-bee gun, it’s a Bee-bee gun!!”
Both she and my brother have a fascination with guns. They talk about guns a lot. Auntie had given him a bee-bee gun at one time, and I remember her fussing at him for breaking it or something a while back. She was not pleased about that at all!

Auntie held the gun lovingly in her hand. “No boy, it’s a real gun. It’s a .38.”

I thought my brother would do backflips when she said that.

I was preparing to just jump out the way. I didn’t want her wielding that thing around, trying to do her Foxy Brown thang, you know.

My quiet Grandma leaned forward from her sitting position on the sofa. “I want to hold it, J” she said quietly.

Grandma held out her tiny hands, and Auntie gently placed the gun in them. She held it and stared at it for a moment, clearly in awe of it. “It’s heavy,” she whispered, her eyes wide as saucers.

We passed it around and we all held it. My brother got especially happy with it, and I immediately directed him to give the gun back to my Auntie.

She was quite elated by the gift. She couldn’t wait to get to a range somewhere and shoot it…

Oh my!

That’s my Auntie for ya! She has a very quiet demeanor, just like my grandma. They are both very artistic people.

But she has a rowdy side…

Fast Cars. Motorcyles. Tattoos. Big knives and swords…

And guns….
Yeah, she’s undercover gangsta.

But she has her tender loving mother side too. She has no kids, but has done much to steer me and my siblings in the right direction. Without her, I think we would all be in prison somewhere, or just plain trifling as hell…

But we’re not…

Thanks, Gangsta! (I mean thanks, Auntie!!!!!)

Know that we love you dearly :)

Repost: Grandma and Me... Part 2

In memory of my Grandmother, who passed away last month, I wanted to repost a few of my favorite Grandma posts...
This one is titled Grandma and Me... Part 2, posted some 4 years ago.


Like I said, Grandma has been blowing up my phone. And when she does that, she is serious.

She has been wanting to go see her youngest son, my Uncle D, who has MS and is bedridden. But we are not the close knit family that most are, and it has been hard trying to figure out how to get in contact with them. I hooked up with his daughters on Facebook, and through that I could at least get some cell phone numbers. And it turns out my cousin Nicki was pregnant.  I told Grandma this. I think she already knew. And we decided that when the baby came, we would go see both Uncle D and the baby.

I remember taking her to the doctor last week, and while we were sitting waiting patiently in the waiting area, she leaned over and asked "When is Nicki having that baby."

I'd been keeping up with Nicki on facebook and private chatting with her. "She is having the baby today. She is being induced."

The smile that spread across Grandma's face was priceless. She was so happy.

"You have to take me to go see her," she said.

I said "I surely will" for the fifth or sixth time.

Now we decided to go see her on the following Sunday. Interestingly, Grandma was nowhere to be found. I was the one now blowing up her phone, lol. Turns out she had been to church and had just gotten home at the time I was picking her up. I caught up with her while I was on my way over there.

And then she was a bit disturbed at the route I was taking. She didn't want to get on the freeway. She wanted to take the street way.

Uh...... No.

I put the address in my Waze app and we found the house. (And yes, we went through the whole scenario of her not remembering where the house was. Man. Thank goodness for GPS).

Once we arrived, little Mayah was asleep. But here's a pic of her while her wide awake while her Mom was getting her ready.

Here she is fast asleep when we arrived.

Grandma and I spent some time with my Uncle D. He is bedridden, but his mind is still good. I am so happy that he recognized us. But I hated seeing him the way he was. I always remember him being young and vibrant.

"How it feel to have a grandbaby, D?" I asked.

"It feels real good, Lisa," he said with a smile.

I bet it does.

And Grandma was all too happy to sit and hold her new great-grandbaby.

And she was cheesing and talking the whole time.

Little Mayah even woke up to eat. 

She is such a sweet quiet baby. I told her mama that she was the same way when she was that age.

Her little feet were exposed. I LOVE baby feet!

Little baby feet are so soft and so small and so perfect.

I tell you, that was such a good good day. I thought we would just stay for an hour, but we ended up staying close to 3 hours. I am really glad Grandma had time to visit with her son and to just sit and hold the baby. And it was so good to be around family for a chance. My cousins is the same age as my brother Milk and Cookies, and just like I am with him, I will always see her as being 5 years old. Same as with her 16 year old sister. It was so much fun just sitting around with them talking and laughing.

And that is something I really needed. 

By the time we left, it started raining hard. I remember me and Grandma standing in the rain looking at the place where Lucy Jr. had been wrecked. I hurried her and myself in the car and I took her home. I spent a few minutes with Uncle Tweet and another cousin, his youngest daughter K, and I went on home.

That was such a great Sunday. I needed that. And so did Grandma.

And I happy to be able to document it here.

Milk and Cookies Picture Show, Part IV (Time with Grandma)

I think the most interesting time with my nephews was over at my grandmother - their great-grandmother's house.

When I got there, Grandma ran up to me (as fast as she could), all excited squeaking "Do you see who is here?"

She shook her balled up fists in the air because she just could not get more words out. I notice when she gets excited and happy, she can't find the words. And that Saturday she couldn't find the words.

It reminded me of how every time we talked, she would say "You know, Kari said he is bringing the boys down here."

And I was thinking to myself... Now you know good and well Kari and driving all the way from Colorado to here with family in tow. That's just too much going on.

But her fists shaking excitedly in the air was her saying I told you so.

I was glad my skepticism was wrong. She's 87 years old. I told Kari to make sure to get by there, 'cause Grandma is 87 years old and may be going to glory one day.

I only got a few pictures. I was only there for an hour at the most. But I did want to get some pictures with Grandma.

I only got one good one of them together. I could not get everyone to look at the camera all at the same time for enough pics, lol. 

She is pleased as punch!!

Here's another. Grandma is telling them to look at them taking the pictures.  Look at the camera, Grandma. Dang!

These two love to take pictures. Not sure what's up with Junior and these pseudo-gang signs, lol. 

He loves taking pictures. He could take them all day long.

I'm just glad that Grandma got some time with her great-grands. It was such a treat, one  I know she will talking about for awhile.

Correction: one she and I will be talking about for a while. 

Exercises with Grandma

My Grandma is always saying, in her small slight voice, "I need to get my exercises."

This means that she needs to get out and go for a walk. And she rarely does that if she has to do it alone. I told her, she can walk to the end of the driveway and back just a few times and that will be fine. She can walk one house up, and one house down, and that will be just fine too.

She nodded.

And I don't know what the head nods means.

"Do you want me to come over and walk with you one afternoon?" I asked.

She nodded again and smiled. "Yes Lisa, that would be real nice."

"Okay," I said.

So I went over one dreary afternoon and we went outside to walk.

Before we left the front porch, she grabbed a huge heavy stick.
 

"This here is my stick I walk with," she said.

"And it's a big stick," I said.

"This here is for in case the dogs come at us," she added.

And she know how to hold it, too...

That's that special Black Belt Ninja stance and hold right there.

We could rest assured that if any dog or any other animal or robber come at us, Grandma had it under control.

That would be one dead dog or person that day. That's just how heavy that stick was.

So we set out for our walk. We walked down the street, which amounted to half a block, then back up. We were going to do this for as long as she could stand it.  And this was a slow walk. I usually walk upwards of 3 miles in one hour when I am walking alone. But she walks really slow. So it took us some 10 minutes to walk down the block, and back.

I took a few pictures of the houses on the street. Like most inner city neighborhoods, the neighborhood has gone downhill. Boarded up houses dot the streets. There was a clearing down the street where I would wait for the afternoon train and wave at the conductor and he would blow the horn. It was good to see that, even though it's a bit overgrown now.

And it's always good to see my great-grandmother's house:

She passed over 30 years ago, when I was 12. But I practically lived with her and Uncle Olin and Otis here up until the age of 5 or so. She lived next door, to the left of my maternal grandparents. She loved to watch her "stories" in the afternoon, and my grandmother would arrive home for her job around 3:30 pm. This excited me, because I could leave and go to her house and watch the afternoon cartoons.

And then there's this house, which is on the other side of my great-grandmother's house.

I shudder when I see this house.

Why? Because I got stung by a bee one day. I was 6 years old, and I was playing next to a bush and out of nowhere... STUNG. There was some random man walking down the street, and I ran screaming and hollering into his arms. He scooped me up and knocked on the front door. I don't remember much after that.

(But I don't think that is a good idea, running and jumping in strange people's arms).

Anyway, Great-Grandma Minnie took me next door. There were some old ladies sitting up on the steps. The owner of the house, Mrs. Mac, peered at me curiously as my great-grandma explained how I'd been stung on the back of my hand by a bee.

I liked Mrs. Mac.  She was really nice to me. Always yelled "Hey Lisa" as I walked (or rode my big wheel or my bike) around the corner to the corner store for my bag of Funyuns and orange Nehi soda. And she was really light-skinned with what was called "that good hair". At one time, I thought that she was white. I asked Great-grandma about it. She said she wasn't, and that was that Massa blood in her. O_o.

(Not sure one should tell this to a small child. I thought about that for days).

Anyway, Mrs. Mac grabbed my hand and grabbed some of the snuff she was chewing on out of her mouth and slapped it on the back of my hand.

THE HORROR!

I was too shocked to cry.  I remember the huge intake of hot summer air, the large gasp.

Nearly 40 years later, I can still see the sticky beige goo on the back of my hand.  All the old ladies were staring at me. I knew not to wipe it off.

"Leave that on there for awhile," Mrs. Mac instructed. "It take the sting out."

I don't remember much after that. I must've been shocked the rest of the day.  It must've worked, because I was back to playing outside the rest of the summer.

All these years, even now, I dare not go by the bush where I got stung. No way. No sir.

Grandma and I talked of all this while we "got our exercises." It's funny how I can still see and feel the vibrancy of the neighborhood circa 40 years ago, even through the dilapidation.  I can still hear my grandparents neighbors greeting me. I can still hear the train coming down the railroad tracks.

I hate that is all lost.

But it truly isn't lost.

It's alive in my heart.

(And I'm glad of that).

Friday Freestyles

Today...

Is...

Friday...

Thank goodness for that. For one, it is PayDay. Second, it has been a LONG week. Too much to post about. 

I have a ton of posts, and a ton of pictures. The problem is loading all these pictures. And I haven't felt like doing that.  So I may just do some abbreviated madness.

The biggest thing this week has been with your girl Callie Jo...

She is a long way from the little 0.3 pound kitten she was...



Her eyes changed color. When did that happen?  And thank goodness I don't have to clean her eyes everyday. She grew out of that.

She is 5.5 pounds now... all cat at 6 months of age.  And Wednesday she got...

SPAYED.

She had her ovaries and uterus removed. Ugh.

It is more than a notion. Lawd have mercy, remind me to only get boy cats from now on. LAWD. Neutering is a lot less intense than spaying. Oh my!

I will write more about that ordeal next week.

Right now she is a prisoner of love.

A prisoner of love... in her Elizabethan collar. And she is NOT happy about it. Not one bit.  You can tell by the way she has thrown all that shredded paper all over the place.

More on that next week.

I also, on the same day I dropped Callie off at the vet, picked Grandma up... Well first I got a phone call.

*phone rings*
"Hello?"
"Hey Lisa, is that you?"
"Yes," I said. I knew it was Grandma.
"The doctor called about my shoes. They said they are in"
"Uh okay," I said, as I remembered that she ordered a pair when I took her to the podiatrist last month.
"The doctor said my shoes are ready," she repeated.
"Okay," I said. "You have another appointment in a couple of weeks. We can get them then."
"But my shoes," she said again. "The doctor say they are ready."

So you know what this means... Grandma's shoes were IN and she wanted them as soon as possible.

So we went and picked up her shoes. This is a serious trek, as Grandma walks as slow as Tim Conway.


So I picked her up...

 Look at her... She was ready in her sweats and pullover windbreaker. I got there at around 8:45 am after dropping off Callie Jo for her spay. I thought I would have a couple of hours to just sit around and wait for her to get ready, but she was standing there ready. 

And we went and picked up her shoes...

Those are some good shoes. If I could slip my size 10s into her size 6s, I surely would.

And you should've seen the smile that spread across her face when she tried them on at the doctor's office. I wish I could've taken a picture. I reached down to make sure that her toes were in the right place and asked her to wiggle them. The shoes are just right for her feet.

She got up and walked around in them. It was like the scene out of Forrest Gump, when Forest walked around the office in his new leg braces (all 'cept Grandma didn't fall down).

She is happy with her shoes.

And I am glad I could take off to take her to go get them.

That was the pinnacle of my week. My feel-good moment.

And that is it for my freestyles. I don't have much going on for the weekend. I have to keep Callie Jo still for 10-14 days. That's not going to happen, but I will be eyeing her from a short distance.

I have a lot of reading to do. I came across something I have never heard of before... Fractal Geometry. It peaked my interests. I must investigate further.  I am also reading a book on the origins of ebola. Ya'll better get out here and read instead of watching all this manufactured news... hear me now, believe me later on that.

Overall, I am hoping for a quiet weekend. I hope the temperature gets up, though. Aren't you tired of this weather already? It is COLD!

Have a good weekend... On purpose!

Grandma and Me... and Mayah

Like I said, Grandma has been blowing up my phone. And when she does that, she is serious.

She has been wanting to go see her youngest son, my Uncle D, who has MS and is bedridden. But we are not the close knit family that most are, and it has been hard trying to figure out how to get in contact with them. I hooked up with his daughters on Facebook, and through that I could at least get some cell phone numbers. And it turns out my cousin Nicki was pregnant.  I told Grandma this. I think she already knew. And we decided that when the baby came, we would go see both Uncle D and the baby.

I remember taking her to the doctor last week, and while we were sitting waiting patiently in the waiting area, she leaned over and asked "When is Nicki having that baby."

I'd been keeping up with Nicki on facebook and private chatting with her. "She is having the baby today. She is being induced."

The smile that spread across Grandma's face was priceless. She was so happy.

"You have to take me to go see her," she said.

I said "I surely will" for the fifth or sixth time.

Now we decided to go see her on the following Sunday. Interestingly, Grandma was nowhere to be found. I was the one now blowing up her phone, lol. Turns out she had been to church and had just gotten home at the time I was picking her up. I caught up with her while I was on my way over there.

And then she was a bit disturbed at the route I was taking. She didn't want to get on the freeway. She wanted to take the street way.

Uh...... No.

I put the address in my Waze app and we found the house. (And yes, we went through the whole scenario of her not remembering where the house was. Man. Thank goodness for GPS).

Once we arrived, little Mayah was asleep. But here's a pic of her while her wide awake while her Mom was getting her ready.

Here she is fast asleep when we arrived.

Grandma and I spent some time with my Uncle D. He is bedridden, but his mind is still good. I am so happy that he recognized us. But I hated seeing him the way he was. I always remember him being young and vibrant.

"How it feel to have a grandbaby, D?" I asked.

"It feels real good, Lisa," he said with a smile.

I bet it does.

And Grandma was all too happy to sit and hold her new great-grandbaby.

And she was cheesing and talking the whole time.

Little Mayah even woke up to eat. 

She is such a sweet quiet baby. I told her mama that she was the same way when she was that age.

Her little feet were exposed. I LOVE baby feet!

Little baby feet are so soft and so small and so perfect.

I tell you, that was such a good good day. I thought we would just stay for an hour, but we ended up staying close to 3 hours. I am really glad Grandma had time to visit with her son and to just sit and hold the baby. And it was so good to be around family for a chance. My cousins is the same age as my brother Milk and Cookies, and just like I am with him, I will always see her as being 5 years old. Same as with her 16 year old sister. It was so much fun just sitting around with them talking and laughing.

And that is something I really needed. 

By the time we left, it started raining hard. I remember me and Grandma standing in the rain looking at the place where Lucy Jr. had been wrecked. I hurried her and myself in the car and I took her home. I spent a few minutes with Uncle Tweet and another cousin, his youngest daughter K, and I went on home.

That was such a great Sunday. I needed that. And so did Grandma.

And I happy to be able to document it here.