My Pink Grandma and My Not-Pink Grandma
My two grandmothers both grew up in rural Robertson County, Tennessee. Though their girlhoods had many things in common, their adulthoods seemed as different as night and day in my young mind.
Mama Sue’s bedroom carpet was pink. Her bathroom tile was pink. Her bathroom sinks were pink. Even the toilet was pink. And, I kid you not, her cookware was aluminum on the inside and, you guessed it, pink on the outside.
Granny was not pink. She was sweet and had a pretty smile and I do remember one or two dresses in pretty shades of blue, but otherwise, my memories of Granny are not colorful. The only home decoration that stood out to me was a cut-glass decanter that sat on a mantle in the very plain but rarely used living room. Her house had four rooms and a bath, but we rarely went into either of the two in the front. We went in the kitchen, sat on the bed in their bedroom, or sat in the front yard.
When I was a girl, my two grandmothers lived thirteen miles apart. Granny lived in town, but it felt like the country. Mama Sue lived in the country, but she was quite uptown. Milk at Mama Sue’s came from a carton brought home from Daddy Leland’s grocery store. Milk at Granny’s came from the cow Granddaddy milked in the barn across the street from their tiny home. Mama Sue grew beautiful flowers and mimosa trees in her backyard. Granny’s backyard had vegetables and chickens.
Mama Sue had every modern convenience. Her kitchen cabinets were custom-made knotty pine. Her countertops were pink, of course. Her stand-up mixer sat on a shelf that swung up to countertop height when in use and stayed tucked away behind a cabinet door when it was not. Mama Sue must have been one of the first women in our county to have a microwave.
Granny’s kitchen had a cabinet that held her sink and a tall, white, wooden cabinet with one drawer and two sets of doors. She cooked in a hodgepodge of thin metal pots and pans. Her silverware stood upright in a jar on the kitchen table. Her trash can was an empty Quaker Oats box which sat on the floor.
When we dropped in at Mama Sue’s, she fed us peanut butter cornflake candy and chess pie. At Christmas we had fruit cake cookies, fresh coconut cake, jam cake with caramel frosting, and boiled custard dipped from a beautiful cranberry and clear crystal punch bowl and served in matching punch cups. Oh, yum! Could Mama Sue ever cook!
When my family visited at Granny’s on a Sunday afternoon, I loved the biscuits left over from breakfast and left on the kitchen table. The only dessert I remember was yellow cake with homemade chocolate frosting. Both were delicious. We went there for supper on Christmas and enjoyed a seasonal and tasty but much simpler meal.
Both of my grandmothers worked very hard. Mama Sue hosted her children, her grandchildren, and her siblings and siblings-in-law often. She loved and served her parents. She worked part-time in Daddy Leland’s store. Granny took care of elderly people in their homes, what we used to call “sitting up” with people.
Both of my grandmothers believed in saving. Granny must have squirreled away a large percentage of what she earned. Her bank gave her a place setting of china every time she deposited a certain amount. I don’t remember a single china dish in her house, but she gave each of us granddaughters an eight-place setting when we graduated from high school. Both of my grandmothers left an inheritance to their children.
Each of my grandmothers left me an example of seeking God, and they left me with precious memories. Two favorites are when Granny helped me catch a bird by putting salt on its tail and when Mama Sue tied bread bags on my feet because I brought no boots but wanted to play in the snow.
My parents taught me a respect for my grandparents that was based on love, family, and relationships and not on things external–an important lesson for little children.
The rich and the poor have a common bond,
The Lord is the maker of them all.
Proverbs 22:2