My Grandma always loved everyone who came through her front door (even though she was as racist and sexist as many others from her generation). She often said, "I never worked a day in my life." And by that she didn't mean she never worked. She grew up on a farm and she helped thrash the beat fields probably with as much force as any man, but the fact that she was never really paid for any of the work she did seemed to shine through to me as a young girl looking for work and money. My brothers and I often did chores around the yard and her house for her so we could earn a couple dollars here and there, but she always paid my brothers about five times more than she paid me to do the same amount of work. I used to think she was a little behind on the times, but now that I understand the inequalities women STILL face in the workforce, I think maybe she was spot on with society.
Even so, my grandma (like I said already) truly loved everyone. My favorite thing was to hear her talk about my grandpa. She always said, "The only thing Bernell and I ever fought about was who loved the other more. I always won." Since my grandpa died when I was only about four, I can't exactly confirm this to be true about their relationship, but I think the fact that she remembered her relationship with him that way means that they really had something special.
There are so many things I could say about my Grandma--like how she would get me and my little brother to help her dig out the expired, yet "perfectly good" sandwiches and frozen burritos from the dumpster behind the old Top Stop. Or how she had no inhibitions when she spoke to strangers in public (mostly about her diarrhea and/or constipation or other such embarrassing physical ailments).
Somehow she was always positive. She loved to laugh and smile, and even though there were times when she got frustrated or upset about how she couldn't find her pills or she was out of root beer, I can't remember a time when Grandma was ever truly angry or even sad.
Grandma's favorite colors were Pink and Green (which everybody knew from seeing her house and her wardrobe). She loved to wear lipstick, watch Perry Mason, and sing her own little made up tunes.
My passion for writing and creating came directly through my mom (who is also a writer and very creative) from my grandma. So, today in her memory, I'd like to share with you one of the songs she wrote called Think of Him (I'm hoping that someone will record my cousin singing this at the funeral so I can share that with the words and all, but for now here's the melody and accompaniment played by one of our family friends):