Good Bye & Thank You, Grandma Memaw

My last grandparent passed away last week. At first it was just another funeral. I am at an age now that I attend more funerals than weddings. I have sorrow for each family member who passes. I wish somehow my children could know them like I knew them when I was a child, but the circle of life never stops turning.

My Grandma Memaw was a vibrant woman who taught me more than I realized. Sitting in the pew, listening to the story of Memaw's life, it hit me. She was the bright spot in my childhood, an oasis. I spent years angry with my parents for not being what I thought parents should be. My childhood was not horrible, but it was not happy. Lots of drama; closets became great places to hide and to escape into wonderful worlds of fancy. Anyway, my parents were useless in helping me find the joy in my childhood, but then I went to Memaw's funeral.

Memaw lived in the Valley, MacAllen, Texas valley, when we were growing up. Mom would ship us off to Memaw's when she had had enough. We would stay weeks in the Valley loving every minute. Memaw had a tiny house, but it was packed full of treasures, momentos and souveneirs and knick knacks. Everything had a story, and Memaw never waivered in telling every story and some stories over and over.

It was a simpler time so we were free to run barefoot through the neighborhood, climb trees, get dirty and just have fun. We enjoyed decorating bikes and riding them in the Fourth of July parade. It never failed to be pickin' time when we were there. Pickin' time for all the oranges and grapefruits, Memaw grew in her backyard. Memaw also believed everybody should learn a musical instrument whether they played it for life or just learned it as a child. She had a piano that each of us got a turn to play. She was patient (very patient on the piano) and kind and full of laughter.

Everytime we visited the valley; Memaw would make sure one day we got to go to South Padre Island to build sand castles and enjoy an ice cream cone. When we went to the beach, it was never just a Grandma with her Grandkids. It was a parade. Memaw invited everybody; family, friends, neighbors, "The more the merrier." Meal time at Memaw's was always a party. She invited everybody; family, friends, neighbors, kids we had just met playing in the yard, "The more the merrier." And then there was dipping time. Dipping, a medicinal treatment for cats to help with fleas, ticks and other things, was a stinky, I mean it had an odor, job. Memaw did it with gusto. She didn't just dip her cats. She made a vat of the stuff in the backyard and dipped her cats and the neighbors cats and any stray cat any of the kids, us and the neighbor kids, could catch. "The more the merrier."

"The more the merrier," Memaw said. It was a phrase that floated around me; hugged me. I heard other people say it, but it just wasn't the same. When Memaw said it, you knew she meant it. At Memaw's house you weren't just welcome; you were wanted. I love Memaw for that. For a child from a broken home with a turbulant childhood, she was an oasis that taught love, laughter and the true meaning of "the more the merrier." Thank you, Memaw. I will miss you.