Saturday, January 29, 2022

Toilet Paper, Bobby Pins & a Silk Pillowcase

 Toilet paper, bobby pins and a silk pillowcase........that is a memory I have of my Gramma Peabody. Once a week she would go get her hair done and she never combed it between. At night she would go round and round her poofy do with toilet paper then secure it with bobby pins before laying her encased head on a silk pillow to rest. It is funny the memories we have of others. This hairdo business just never quite fit with who my Gramma was. She didn't have fancy anywhere else in her life. Most areas of life were practical and simple. Her passion for reading was not even evident in her home. I always remember her lost in a book but have no visions of bookshelves or even books on coffee tables. I'm thinking she must have made good use of her library card. She would never be frivolous enough to go purchase books and yet that weekly hair appointment was sacred.

Gramma was always at my Grampa's call and constantly dropped what she was doing to run to the hardware store or hold the ladder under him. Jumping in the car at a moments notice was fun for me as it seemed like it was another adventure with her. Why I considered it a joy to climb in the car with her had little to do with the destination and everything to do with spending time with this person who made each of us feel like her favorite. She could come up with some wild tales of her childhood and kept me in stitches. 

Daily power naps were her answer to staying up late for quiet time after Grampa went to sleep. He would yell, "Honey!" from their bedroom and she was off and running to see what he needed or wanted. She never seemed to mind his call but would on occasion roll her eyes when what he needed was right beside him on the nightstand. Gramma had her medicinal shot of whiskey every evening but mornings and the rest of the day were all about her coffee. She didn't drink water and claimed it would rust her pipes. 

An embarrassing moment she shared was when she was in a rush at the grocery store and the bagboy had just placed her groceries in the trunk. She grabbed her keys from her purse and jumped in to get going. Problem was that Gramma was in the backseat with no place to put that key. She was embarrassed so pretended to look around to find something rather than have him knowing her mistake. After he got back in the store and out of sight she crawled out of the back and into the front and was on her way. The vision I have is that her face was as red as her hair that day. 

My Mom and I get our love for swimming from Gramma. She was always up for a swim and if it was just us girls in the backyard she preferred to skinny dip the way God intended us to swim. I smile as I think of all the precious time with her. She could play the piano beautifully and was always learning. Her love of knowledge was widespread though she never bragged about what she knew. Learning more about anything was just for her and she had no need to showoff. Gramma enjoyed simple things like her fish tank, teacup collection, though she wouldn't be caught dead drinking tea, and her family. She raised all of us on coffee but had one rule......drink it black or don't drink it. I am sitting here today by a tall cup of black coffee as I remember her. 

Gramma was an honest person and she always shot her own deer even if it was after Grampa killed it and showed her where to shoot it's leg. She never wanted to have to lie so she found a way to make it work. I think my randomness and storytelling is from her. It makes me happy to think that I have a part of her still tucked away in my personality. We both love to shock people and see their confusion. Gramma used to say she loved her gray hair because she could get away with stuff people assumed she just had no clue. Once she was sitting in the backseat with Todd and Troy and started flipping people off out the window. The boys were mortified but Gramma innocently asked if that wasn't how people said hello these days. Such fun! I find myself with more and more of her ornery in me as I get more white in my hair. She was always a hoot. What a gift it would be if my own grandkids thought of me with big smiles the way I am when I think of Miss Emma Louise Peabody.

In Him,

Joyful

1-29-22


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