Mamaw was a wonderful grandmother. All of us grand-children felt that we were her favorite. She loved to laugh and have fun. In the summer, she lived for the weekends when she'd have most of her kids and grandkids over for dinner (at lunchtime) and we'd end up staying all day there on those beautiful summer days, playing horse-shoes, eating at long picnic tables, just enjoying the family.
Christmas at her house meant we couldn't step through the living room for the piles of presents waiting for us to open. Her tables would virtually groan with the weight of the food she'd fixed for us - and even though there were so many of us, she'd manage to fix each one of us our special 'favorite' food or dessert. She worked so hard to let us know she loved us, every one of us. She could get angry and way upset if one of us missed her special dinners.. we knew better than to do that! To this day I miss her evening phone calls, "Juel, I've made a big pot of Dumplins, come and eat some..."
She loved to tell us kids ghost stories when we'd stay all night with her, as well as other wonderful stories about her life when she was a child. She would spend time with us, talking to us, playing with us, taking us places, she was an integeral part of our lives, not an observer, but she interacted with us on a level we as children responded to.
When I got a little older, she would take me to grave yards, and tell me about the relatives or friends who'd gone on. She taught me to respect those graves, remember those interred there with flowers, and not to fear the cemeteries the way a lot of young people seem to do. By the time I was in my early teens, I discovered that she had a curious nature about death. She'd call me on the phone, and tell me that this or that funeral home had someone that evening, for me to get ready, she wanted to go see, and she wanted me to go with her. She'd insist on going whether or not she knew the person. I always kidded her that she'd have made a good mortician. Still, I went with her on these funeral home visits, she'd have gone with or without me, and the truth was, I just loved being with her no matter where we went. I would venture to say that not many other grand-mothers out there did something like this with their grand-daughters.
I went to many different churches with her, she loved to visit different ones, but her home church was Boonheight Holiness church, the same church where we had her funeral.
As much as we loved her, we knew she had a firey temper if something didn't suit her right. She didn't like alcohol in her home. I can remember someone had sneaked Papaw a beer into the house, and he'd hidden it in the fridge. She found it and oh my, I watched her chase him around the house and spang outside, shaking that can of beer, yelling at him that he knew better than that.. and him running and laughing, trying to watch behind him while he ran, sure she was gonna chuck that can at him at any moment. They were so comical together.
She loved to travel, and she loved country music. Often she and Papaw would take off with their little pull behind camper and go to 'hillbilly' shows in Buck Lake Indiana, or Tombstone Junction, Kentucky, pretty much anywhere country music singers were going to be performing. One time when my uncle Lonnie was still there at home, Mamaw and Papaw decided they were going to take me and Lonnie to the Grand Ol' Opry. We took off from Detroit in their old car, and headed down to Tennessee, drove all night long, but when we got there, there was a sign on the doors, "Closed for renovations." How disappointed we all were. Mamaw just scowled and grumbled at Papaw for not having checked for something like that first. It seems like she had a newspaper, or maybe it was a roadmap in her hand, she gave him a sound thump on the arm with it to emphasize her displeasure. I still chuckle when I remember that trip.
She was a homemaker all of her life. Mamaw and Papaw had had five children together; Joan, Lorene, Don, Brenda and Lonnie. Two sons-in-laws followed her in death, Kenneth and Leonard.
Sisters and Brothers:
Wilma, Earl, George, Shirley, Juel, Junior, and Raymond.
She stayed busy with her family - her husband, children and grand-children and great grand-children. Her family was her world, and she was ours. She was truly the glue that held us together, and I will miss this woman until the day I take my very own last breath.
Christmas at her house meant we couldn't step through the living room for the piles of presents waiting for us to open. Her tables would virtually groan with the weight of the food she'd fixed for us - and even though there were so many of us, she'd manage to fix each one of us our special 'favorite' food or dessert. She worked so hard to let us know she loved us, every one of us. She could get angry and way upset if one of us missed her special dinners.. we knew better than to do that! To this day I miss her evening phone calls, "Juel, I've made a big pot of Dumplins, come and eat some..."
She loved to tell us kids ghost stories when we'd stay all night with her, as well as other wonderful stories about her life when she was a child. She would spend time with us, talking to us, playing with us, taking us places, she was an integeral part of our lives, not an observer, but she interacted with us on a level we as children responded to.
When I got a little older, she would take me to grave yards, and tell me about the relatives or friends who'd gone on. She taught me to respect those graves, remember those interred there with flowers, and not to fear the cemeteries the way a lot of young people seem to do. By the time I was in my early teens, I discovered that she had a curious nature about death. She'd call me on the phone, and tell me that this or that funeral home had someone that evening, for me to get ready, she wanted to go see, and she wanted me to go with her. She'd insist on going whether or not she knew the person. I always kidded her that she'd have made a good mortician. Still, I went with her on these funeral home visits, she'd have gone with or without me, and the truth was, I just loved being with her no matter where we went. I would venture to say that not many other grand-mothers out there did something like this with their grand-daughters.
I went to many different churches with her, she loved to visit different ones, but her home church was Boonheight Holiness church, the same church where we had her funeral.
As much as we loved her, we knew she had a firey temper if something didn't suit her right. She didn't like alcohol in her home. I can remember someone had sneaked Papaw a beer into the house, and he'd hidden it in the fridge. She found it and oh my, I watched her chase him around the house and spang outside, shaking that can of beer, yelling at him that he knew better than that.. and him running and laughing, trying to watch behind him while he ran, sure she was gonna chuck that can at him at any moment. They were so comical together.
She loved to travel, and she loved country music. Often she and Papaw would take off with their little pull behind camper and go to 'hillbilly' shows in Buck Lake Indiana, or Tombstone Junction, Kentucky, pretty much anywhere country music singers were going to be performing. One time when my uncle Lonnie was still there at home, Mamaw and Papaw decided they were going to take me and Lonnie to the Grand Ol' Opry. We took off from Detroit in their old car, and headed down to Tennessee, drove all night long, but when we got there, there was a sign on the doors, "Closed for renovations." How disappointed we all were. Mamaw just scowled and grumbled at Papaw for not having checked for something like that first. It seems like she had a newspaper, or maybe it was a roadmap in her hand, she gave him a sound thump on the arm with it to emphasize her displeasure. I still chuckle when I remember that trip.
She was a homemaker all of her life. Mamaw and Papaw had had five children together; Joan, Lorene, Don, Brenda and Lonnie. Two sons-in-laws followed her in death, Kenneth and Leonard.
Sisters and Brothers:
Wilma, Earl, George, Shirley, Juel, Junior, and Raymond.
She stayed busy with her family - her husband, children and grand-children and great grand-children. Her family was her world, and she was ours. She was truly the glue that held us together, and I will miss this woman until the day I take my very own last breath.
Mamaw was a wonderful grandmother. All of us grand-children felt that we were her favorite. She loved to laugh and have fun. In the summer, she lived for the weekends when she'd have most of her kids and grandkids over for dinner (at lunchtime) and we'd end up staying all day there on those beautiful summer days, playing horse-shoes, eating at long picnic tables, just enjoying the family.
Christmas at her house meant we couldn't step through the living room for the piles of presents waiting for us to open. Her tables would virtually groan with the weight of the food she'd fixed for us - and even though there were so many of us, she'd manage to fix each one of us our special 'favorite' food or dessert. She worked so hard to let us know she loved us, every one of us. She could get angry and way upset if one of us missed her special dinners.. we knew better than to do that! To this day I miss her evening phone calls, "Juel, I've made a big pot of Dumplins, come and eat some..."
She loved to tell us kids ghost stories when we'd stay all night with her, as well as other wonderful stories about her life when she was a child. She would spend time with us, talking to us, playing with us, taking us places, she was an integeral part of our lives, not an observer, but she interacted with us on a level we as children responded to.
When I got a little older, she would take me to grave yards, and tell me about the relatives or friends who'd gone on. She taught me to respect those graves, remember those interred there with flowers, and not to fear the cemeteries the way a lot of young people seem to do. By the time I was in my early teens, I discovered that she had a curious nature about death. She'd call me on the phone, and tell me that this or that funeral home had someone that evening, for me to get ready, she wanted to go see, and she wanted me to go with her. She'd insist on going whether or not she knew the person. I always kidded her that she'd have made a good mortician. Still, I went with her on these funeral home visits, she'd have gone with or without me, and the truth was, I just loved being with her no matter where we went. I would venture to say that not many other grand-mothers out there did something like this with their grand-daughters.
I went to many different churches with her, she loved to visit different ones, but her home church was Boonheight Holiness church, the same church where we had her funeral.
As much as we loved her, we knew she had a firey temper if something didn't suit her right. She didn't like alcohol in her home. I can remember someone had sneaked Papaw a beer into the house, and he'd hidden it in the fridge. She found it and oh my, I watched her chase him around the house and spang outside, shaking that can of beer, yelling at him that he knew better than that.. and him running and laughing, trying to watch behind him while he ran, sure she was gonna chuck that can at him at any moment. They were so comical together.
She loved to travel, and she loved country music. Often she and Papaw would take off with their little pull behind camper and go to 'hillbilly' shows in Buck Lake Indiana, or Tombstone Junction, Kentucky, pretty much anywhere country music singers were going to be performing. One time when my uncle Lonnie was still there at home, Mamaw and Papaw decided they were going to take me and Lonnie to the Grand Ol' Opry. We took off from Detroit in their old car, and headed down to Tennessee, drove all night long, but when we got there, there was a sign on the doors, "Closed for renovations." How disappointed we all were. Mamaw just scowled and grumbled at Papaw for not having checked for something like that first. It seems like she had a newspaper, or maybe it was a roadmap in her hand, she gave him a sound thump on the arm with it to emphasize her displeasure. I still chuckle when I remember that trip.
She was a homemaker all of her life. Mamaw and Papaw had had five children together; Joan, Lorene, Don, Brenda and Lonnie. Two sons-in-laws followed her in death, Kenneth and Leonard.
Sisters and Brothers:
Wilma, Earl, George, Shirley, Juel, Junior, and Raymond.
She stayed busy with her family - her husband, children and grand-children and great grand-children. Her family was her world, and she was ours. She was truly the glue that held us together, and I will miss this woman until the day I take my very own last breath.
Christmas at her house meant we couldn't step through the living room for the piles of presents waiting for us to open. Her tables would virtually groan with the weight of the food she'd fixed for us - and even though there were so many of us, she'd manage to fix each one of us our special 'favorite' food or dessert. She worked so hard to let us know she loved us, every one of us. She could get angry and way upset if one of us missed her special dinners.. we knew better than to do that! To this day I miss her evening phone calls, "Juel, I've made a big pot of Dumplins, come and eat some..."
She loved to tell us kids ghost stories when we'd stay all night with her, as well as other wonderful stories about her life when she was a child. She would spend time with us, talking to us, playing with us, taking us places, she was an integeral part of our lives, not an observer, but she interacted with us on a level we as children responded to.
When I got a little older, she would take me to grave yards, and tell me about the relatives or friends who'd gone on. She taught me to respect those graves, remember those interred there with flowers, and not to fear the cemeteries the way a lot of young people seem to do. By the time I was in my early teens, I discovered that she had a curious nature about death. She'd call me on the phone, and tell me that this or that funeral home had someone that evening, for me to get ready, she wanted to go see, and she wanted me to go with her. She'd insist on going whether or not she knew the person. I always kidded her that she'd have made a good mortician. Still, I went with her on these funeral home visits, she'd have gone with or without me, and the truth was, I just loved being with her no matter where we went. I would venture to say that not many other grand-mothers out there did something like this with their grand-daughters.
I went to many different churches with her, she loved to visit different ones, but her home church was Boonheight Holiness church, the same church where we had her funeral.
As much as we loved her, we knew she had a firey temper if something didn't suit her right. She didn't like alcohol in her home. I can remember someone had sneaked Papaw a beer into the house, and he'd hidden it in the fridge. She found it and oh my, I watched her chase him around the house and spang outside, shaking that can of beer, yelling at him that he knew better than that.. and him running and laughing, trying to watch behind him while he ran, sure she was gonna chuck that can at him at any moment. They were so comical together.
She loved to travel, and she loved country music. Often she and Papaw would take off with their little pull behind camper and go to 'hillbilly' shows in Buck Lake Indiana, or Tombstone Junction, Kentucky, pretty much anywhere country music singers were going to be performing. One time when my uncle Lonnie was still there at home, Mamaw and Papaw decided they were going to take me and Lonnie to the Grand Ol' Opry. We took off from Detroit in their old car, and headed down to Tennessee, drove all night long, but when we got there, there was a sign on the doors, "Closed for renovations." How disappointed we all were. Mamaw just scowled and grumbled at Papaw for not having checked for something like that first. It seems like she had a newspaper, or maybe it was a roadmap in her hand, she gave him a sound thump on the arm with it to emphasize her displeasure. I still chuckle when I remember that trip.
She was a homemaker all of her life. Mamaw and Papaw had had five children together; Joan, Lorene, Don, Brenda and Lonnie. Two sons-in-laws followed her in death, Kenneth and Leonard.
Sisters and Brothers:
Wilma, Earl, George, Shirley, Juel, Junior, and Raymond.
She stayed busy with her family - her husband, children and grand-children and great grand-children. Her family was her world, and she was ours. She was truly the glue that held us together, and I will miss this woman until the day I take my very own last breath.
