TheBanyanTree: Roe's Journal

[yellow roses]

Remembrance of a grandmother 

My Granny 

Saturdays at Granny’s house, were the most favored
days of my youth .
As my memory reflects those days, the things I can
"touch" are those
aromas. I smell lavender and vanilla, and I daydream
of being in her
kitchen with her, watching her move effortlessly - as
if she had wings
on her feet ... no sound! ... except she would hum a
church hymn. The
kitchen was the ugliest color - Chinese orange! But
that was also what
made it hers .

I remember walking in as a child, and climbing to my
spot, at the end of
a long wooden table scarred by many children and many
more dinners.
My spot was a white handmade wooden highchair that
great-grandfather
had made for one of the numerous children. There I
perched at the
head of her table, with her cooking, she making some
scrumptious ordinary
dish. But it was all so yummy!

My favorite time was Christmas. That was when she made
rock candy.
Oh! ... and taffy. We got to help with that. That was
why it is such a
favorite memory. To help Granny in the kitchen was a
great honor! Not
everyone could do it! We were special, the ones that
got to help.

Cousin Hank never could pull taffy. He ate more than
he pulled! Ha-ha!
Theresa - she didn't want to get her hands sticky! Ha!
That was the
best part! Granny said she would change her mind
someday, but she
never liked cooking all that well - not enough
attention for the cooks!

I loved being in that orange room with her. She was my
person! Her
wisdom made me more of who I am today than all I
learned in school.
The wisdom of many years lived, and many years loved,
made her the
smartest woman in the world. Being with her, I
developed my strength
and character. She taught me to be strong: “Remember
your people,
Rosetta. They were good, strong, and wise people".

Pulling taffy and making rock candy were life lessons.
As she explained,
there is a patience to life that is like the pull of
taffy. "You give some;
you pull some, as in life. There are sticky times, and
this is when we add
more oil and pull harder. Rock candy is all beautiful
and shiny, just like
the dreams of a small girls' life. But then you have
to crack it; you break
it into many shapes and pieces, so like our lives as
we grow up. It is sweet,
but there are times when if not careful, you will get
a cut on your tongue
from a sharp edge.

These are the words of wisdom that I grew up on - so
many more that I
have forgotten, so many that I remember in bits and
pieces. They come
flowing back when I need her the most, when I miss her
the most.

She has been gone form this earth for twenty-three
years. Yet I still
cry with want to smell lavender and vanilla . With the
need to know I
am loved, with all my faults. These are my remembrance
thoughts of
my great-grandmother - my Granny.



		
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