Today, May 2nd would have been my Mother’s 86th birthday. She was the youngest of 6 children and shared her birthday with one of her brothers who was 2 years older.
Although she liked for us to remember her birthday each year, she did not like getting older. Not so unlike the rest of us I suppose.
I can remember when she found out she was going to be a grandmother for the first time. She announced to my sister and I, that she was not ready to be a grandmother. That was for old people and she definitely had no intention of being called “Granny”.
Granny was someone on the Beverly Hillbillies. A little dried up lady who hobbled around, stooped over and she was definitely not that.
She fought this tooth and nail. So the first two grandchildren, my sister’s children, did not call her a grandmotherly name, which suited her fine. She was simply Violet.
However, I started using the word “Granny” when my son was born. This was a little bit of my mischievous side. However, he could have called her whatever he wanted but “Granny” stuck. Of course, by this time she had the experience of being a grandmother and loved it!!
She was a terrific mother and grandmother. She adored her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and they could do no wrong in her eyes. She loved for them to visit with her and Daddy and spoiled them to no end. It would take at least a week to get them back in shape after spending a couple of weeks with her in the summer.
She had a soft, sweet southern voice and thought the best way to discipline children was to simply talk to them (this was with grandchildren only). Of course it worked on the grandchildren because like I said they could do no wrong?! I can hear her now, “Eddie, you mustn’t do thaaaat!”
I miss hearing her voice and seeing her in her cute little blue jeans and blazer, eating her desserts, watching her savour a cup of coffee and the way she said my name….Doooereeen.
Happy Birthday Mother!
I had that first picture out ready to scan and changed my mind… so funny. I also wanted to write about her little “secret” that we discovered, but was afraid she might fly down from heaven and whip me with an envelope. HA! Love you!
I wanted to write about her little secret too and had the same thought. I also started to put in how old she was (40) when you were born but thought she might hit me with that envelope!
Oh, I did put in how old she was when I was born… ducking.