Remembering My Mamaw

I remember my mamaw telling me a cocky bull story as we would snuggle in bed.

I remember peanut butter fudge and potato candy.

I remember learning how to make biscuits from scratch and sugar gravy.

I remember everytime I was sick I would get boiled potatoes with lots of butter.

I remember dinners would consist of potatoes, spinach and mac n cheese ...no meat and that was okay.

I remember bingo and her letting me play with the chips....oh and when they came out with magnetic wants and metal wrapped chips....how fun!

I remember twinkies, turkey sandwiches, and yoohoos.

I remember going to yard sales and her looking for money in her wallet that she hid from herself for just such an occasion.

I remember eating ice.

I remember Hummingbird Cake at Christmas.

I remember a Christmas tree that was so perfect you could measure the exact distance between each ornament.

I remember big lights on the tree and so many of them that you would break out in a sweat if you sat beside it.

I remember skillet burgers and needing a green pepper.

I remember grocery lists and going to Jim's Key Market.

I remember meatloaf.

I remember Victoria singing and dancing to the silly songs she taught us. I remember I found a peanut, Philadelphia lawyer, and Barbara Allen.

I remember Little House on the Prairie and The Price is Right.

I remember the big yellow car that had a name....but I don't remember that.

I remember You toucha my car...I breaka you face.

I remember how much she loved the husband that left her with four children to raise, and no money and how she took him back with open arms everytime he came home. I remember how much she missed him when he died and misses him still.

I remember the little pink house.

I remember Saturdays with ringer washers and mom and aunt and cousins all doing laundry on it at her house.

I remember the smell of burning oil lamps and burning oil furnaces.

I remember crooked floors and uneven walls. And the sound of the porcupine as it moved under the bathtub when you took a bath because there was no floor beneath your tub.

I remember how she held me in her lap.

I remember how she used to be before she got sick.

I remember when she could remember.