I didn’t have a lot of “things” growing up. My parents worked hard but we were mid to lower class at best. Money was always a struggle. What we didn’t have monetarily, we more than made up for in love from our grandparents.
My best memories were always with one of two sets of grandparents. Every weekend we would try our best to be at one of their homes. I think I learned all of the “important stuff” from them.
For example, with my dads parents, I learned about the importance of pouring my coffee (at the very old age of maybe 4?) on a saucer to cool before I drank it. Of course if was probably 90% milk and sugar but I thought I was big anyway. I learned to love music on Sunday mornings before Sunday school and church because we ALWAYS listened to the The Chuck Wagon Gang while getting ready. I learned how to feed chickens and make every penny count. My granddaddy would put one dollar bills in my bible to make sure I had money to put in the offering plate. They were poor but they always made sure to make the best memories with us.
On Saturday’s we would buy a watermelon, onions and tomatoes from a little road side vegetable stand on the way to Hordes Creek. We would take cheese and a jug of water and spend the entire afternoon swimming.
On Friday afternoons we would get snow cones at Mr Clary’s snow cone stand and park near the train track to watch the trains go by. My granddaddy retired from the railroad company after an injury. A load of cross ties fell from a cart and cripples his knees. But he loved trains and therefore we did too.
My mom’s parents were the same but different. We learned to plant a garden, pick up pecans and make birds nest from freah cut grass. We learned to dance in the living room while listening to Lawrence Welk and Hee Haw.
My Nannie’s favorite time of day was just before the sun would set. They live one block from Hufford Field. In the fall, we would sit in folding lawn chairs in the back yard. We could see the score board from their yard and we could hear the commentary. We never missed a home game. I would climb their old mesquite tree and dream of grand adventures while my Nanny would watch the birds fly over to their roost for the night. My Papaw would just watch her. I think it was his favorite thing to do.
Almost 55 years later, as I sit in my own back yard, listening to the football game ( because I only live a few blocks from Hufford Field myself) I reflect on the life I’ve lived and the life I have yet to live. I now have grandchildren of my own. Every day I spend with them brings back memories of the days I spent with my own grandparents and I realize, they were some of the greatest influences in my life. Not necessarily how to be successful in life, but how to be happy. I hope I am able to show the little things in life that are really, really “the important stuff” to my own grandchildren and I hope their memories are just as precious as mine one day.
