Soft, sweet Southern Spring mornings. Morning glories, covered in dew. The sound of an old-fashioned percolator, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She drank it from a saucer. Hot homemade biscuits, real churned butter and real milk, melt in your mouth cantaloupes. Roosters crowing.
Wild cherries and peach blossoms and pears and plums. Cotton clothes hanging on the clothesline. Flowers...everywhere! Hanging pots and honeysuckles. Hydrangeas hyacinths and roses and lilies. Magnolia and wisteria. Gardens. FRESH vegetables, canned for the Winter.
Daddy long legs and bumblebees. Porch swings and snapping beans. Buddy, the squirrel (I have a scar from a bite). FiFi! Scary (terrifying) ghost stories. The pearl-handled gun. Afternoon "stories" and afternoon nap time. Afternoon mischief ;-) Playing in mud puddles (yes, we did). EXPLORING. Fighting. Discovering. Laughing.
Family. Love. Dovie. I'm missing her today.
She was an anchor for us all. A core of youthful gathering. Summers were long, and many memories were made at her humble home. A tough, independent woman, my grandmother was a true survivor. And she taught us all so very much. She was loving and generous in her own special way. She cooked and baked and gardened and canned and planned. And we all gathered and grew and learned about life from her. I have so many wonderful, treasured memories of the time spent with her and my cousins during the long, hot Georgia summers. Her place, her being...she was a solace. Not like soft cashmere, but more like warm wool.
Today, I just want her to know that I miss her and I sincerely thank her for being my grandmother. As a child, I desperately needed a place, a space, to feel safe and warm and protected. She was that place. And I will never, ever forget...I Love You, Dovie. Today and always.
