Jul 12, 2007 22:58
My grandmother's dinning room table is covered with GRE study manuals. It hasn't been littered with useful material since 1994, when she quit sowing. She was 87. She’s been dead for 7 years now… She would have been 100 last April. What a lovely woman she was…
How fond I think of her on cool nights such as tonight,
all smiles with Uno cards and bible verses,
a grandmotherly chair draped in afghans and quilts,
full of love and gospel hymns,
rows of corn and peas,
and home spun attributes of a family love stove,
summer storms with lightening and fresh air,
and holding hands during Sunday service,
a rusted shell of a old southern woman who knew the value of friendship over money, southern brewed tea with well water and sugar cane,
blocked ice and Tab,
laying in bed listening to her breath a prayer at the end of the day that lasted well into sleep,
a woman of knowledge,
a mother of earth and children,
a stern mistress in the realm of domestic argument with pots and pans,
canning for winter months,
always winning in the end,
pacon pies and peach cobbler,
all paint the picture of a generation in the southern hinterland,
a southern gothic poem only Truman and Tennessee know of
strong women in weak roles,
only to find a masculine figure underneath dresses and make-up