Just What We Do...In the South

This past week has been a roller coaster. My neighbor's nephew passed away suddenly and my husband has found out that apparently there is something wrong with his heart. A blog friend, whom I really admired, Lisa, also passed away suddenly on the same day.

I've been spoiling my husband and that is all I really know to do for him. For Lisa, I chose a few words, posted a special blog dedicated to her and what she meant to me as a friend, I even found the music I had been searching for. I hope her family will see it. She lived in another state so carrying a cake was out of the question.

Now when someone passes away in the South, and you attend church with them or they are your neighbors, or close to your "Momma and them" forever...you cook. We take food. That is just how it goes. Now if you are lucky, your Grandmother or (my "Memommie") taught you right, and you have her example to follow. If so you know being a Southern Belle you should a/join in with the church family as to what is going to be prepared and when and by whom. b/Never cross certain lines here.

Delivery is important also. My Memommie always used her best dishes too, china and crystal with Silver spoons to serve. On the bottom of the bowls there was a thin piece of tape with her name glued or taped on so that the item could be returned within the appropriate passing of time of course. It isn't lady or christian like to nag people about dishes and they (the family) should truly return them with a thank you note. That is how I was taught.

I am so fortunate to have a few of these pieces. I can tell by how warn the tape is or how well it has stuck on over the years, it is old. They don't make tape like that anymore. In her best handwriting will be her last name only. That way there was no room for error or confusion.

Certain dishes were prepared over and over again and some of my Memom's friends were kinda famous for those dishes. One lady always made Lasagna, and if need be she would fry chicken too. While one was famous for her Chicken Salad. One lady made Chicken and Dumplings no matter what. My Memommie always made Potato Salad and Banana Pudding or a pound cake. Now if it were in the fall of the year she still made potato salad but would change dessert to Apple cobbler or Pie. My Mother usually opted to cook a vegetable fearing people never eat enough vegetables in stressful/sad times. But my Memom, she always said people needed great food to comfort them at these uncertain and upsetting times. If she made a cake it was beautifully decorated with icing or nuts and maybe fruits if in summer time. Always place on one of her better cake servers with a doily underneath. She felt if it looked really appetizing maybe they would be more inclined to take a bite or another bite. Even if it was a salad it too was given special attention to top it off just right with the julienne slices of red peppers swirled about and pickles sliced just so dotted among the peppers, smoked paprika sprinkled on for color and taste. But don't get me wrong a Honey Baked Ham is never a bad idea. Just have to put that out there for the record. Just don't purchase the sides, make them for goodness sake.

So tonight I made her recipe for Cream Cheese Pound Cake, polished the Cake pedestal and server. In the morning I'll finish a pasta salad and bread and take over to my friends home, who is also my neighbor. The Cake has been dusted with confectioners sugar and lemon zest and fresh mint picked from the garden. The fresh whipped cream will be done last and maybe I'll find some berries to serve with it. I could almost hear my Memom coaching me saying, "that will look real nice there, now don't over do it. It will bring them comfort along with your card with the right verses tucked inside."

Tomorrow I'll carry them over and hope they will know they are prepared with love and sympathy for them. I do love them all and would do anything to lessen the pain they all feel.

I'll be remembering who taught me this was the right thing to do. My Memommie's Sunday School class. Those women could come to your home in stealth mode, deliver food, clean and organize, make another pot of coffee in case anyone else were to stop by and they were like Santa's elves you never knew it and they had the next day planned too. Thank you God for giving me such a good roll model.

This is just how we do it in the South, we feed you till you feel better. I think today, people send flowers, or maybe an e mail or e card. Maybe sign a guestbook online, it's less personal and no one likes to deal with loss.

It's up to us Southern Ladies that are left to teach our children this is how it is to be done. You show up in person for those you love and treat them like they are very special because they are. Who knows I might think of something else too.

He made me a MeMe.

Dylan was born and I became a MeMe. From the moment I saw him come into the world, look around and take his first breath, I knew I was in love. I had never been a MeMe before but I somehow felt different, changed, responsible in a new kind of way. Shortly he came home and I gave him his first bath. The start of many first shared between us. He was my little man. I knew I wanted to always show him, "hey here I am here, I am YOUR MeMe". I wanted him to be proud and secure of our love. I wanted a super closeness.

Both of his parents were in the military so needless to say Poppy and MeMe had Dylan Bear alot. We watched him learn to crawl then learn to walk and talk and his favorite toys. His likes and dislikes. We learned to play his way then tuck him in bed happy. Life was so good. Then...orders came and they were moving to Germany. I couldn't even say the word...Germany...it always got stuck in my throat. But, the day came and away they went for 4 years. I cried buckets of tears. I was sure he would not remember me when he returned to the states and that broke this MeMe's heart into a million tiny pieces. Of course, I would ship packages, and I would call. But that was not the same. I felt empty.

Now he is 12 and he flies in on a jet all by his self in the morning. I can't wait. Will he still let me baby him the way I want to or have I let that slip by never to have again? I guess I'll just have to roll with it, that is what my youngest child tells me to do with life...roll with it Mom. Mom is trying to roll with it, but I don't know if I like where everything in life is rolling these days.

I want him to know I am his friend, but I want to set standards and teach him about people in our family that have gone on and how he fits in. That there are consequences to actions, but never anything that would make me not love him. Which means I have to do the ...dare I say it...my Memommie's job. I am not ready! I am unworthy. I just can't do what she did....I am not the woman she was. Maybe I can come close with my unique spin on it. Maybe.

I want to do the best I can. I want him to have wonderful memories of his Poppy and his MeMe. I want him to have what I had ...I knew I had two people who loved me unconditionally. I knew they stood for something. They stood for so much. They stood for love, the Lord, and it made a difference in my life. I didn't understand the word unconditional but I knew it was something there, something unique between us. I don't think I can live up to be as good at being a Grandparent as they were, but I am trying and that's all I can do.

My little man, my first born Grandson is coming to stay a month tomorrow. I still can't believe it. God let me do my best. Give me the words and the patience and guidance I am sure I will need. I want him to have nothing but happy memories, filled with love and laughter. I'll keep you posted on how we do, or how I do.

I love you Dylan Christopher always have and always will. I'm so happy you are coming to visit. We are going to have fun, and lots of talks, when you leave we will know each other differently. You can't redo a missed occasion, you can't take back an unkind word, you can't speak words left unsaid.

I will cry and feel sad seeing you leave but I will have so many happy memmories of you and how you are changing. We have promised to always love each other and that I know we will do and do it well. Memommie will be here with me I believe somehow and she will nudge me when I need it. I hope I do you proud my little one.

Sometimes a gardener grows flowers and tends the soil. Sometimes a gardener grows Grandchildren and tends to love.

The Visit

Dylan Christopher is my oldest Grandchild. The last time I saw him was almost three years ago. That is way too long not to see your Grandson. His parents are in the military and have just gotten a little closer to us and school is on break.

Two days ago I received the good news that he is old enough now to fly down South for a visit. Yippee!!! One excited MeMe here. I finally get to put my hands on this child.

Sure, there are many calls, e mails, packages and now the possibility of SKPE shared between us. This is not the same as touching them, tucking them in at night, reading to them. Looking deep in their eyes as they tell you a story to make them feel they are the only person on this earth you are listening to.

I've started to wonder what will we do?? He will be 13 this December 7th. A notable day for a birthday, hopefully his destiny will be impressive. How do you entertain a teenager these days. All the recent video games and equipment came to mind, no, to shallow I decide. I had hoped for trips to the beach. Maybe he would learn to love the beach like his MeMe. Looks as if the oil is going to ruin that idea. I plan to find some of the old classic movies to watch together. Hey, think I'll look for Gilligan's Island DVD too. What other memorable way can I fill the days? Pop Pop might come up with a fishing trip or maybe a project built in the Shop. hmmmm... I know he would love to go tubing down the Coldwater Creek while he is here, now that is a fun time.

Then I remembered what I most loved about spending time with my Grandparents. I loved doing anything they did. I helped my Memommie put up pickles, or make pear preserves, or shell peas and beans. It was just fun being with them. We hung clothes out on the clothesline, planted flowers or picked blackberries.

I can smell her house to this day if I really try. Every morning when I woke, she was up and had coffee going in the kitchen. Breakfast was of my choice. The rest of the day I followed along. I was happy. I was loved and I knew it. I had just the two of them to myself. No one to compete with me over conversation or affection.

Maybe that is all Dylan will really want is to spend time together. He does love to cook. He told me their are things he wants me to teach him in the kitchen and so I shall. Their are things I want to teach him about life...and so...I shall. Their are things he will teach me about life...their always are.

I can't wait for the journey to begin. I have to remind myself I can no longer hold him and rock him the way I always have. I keep repeating to myself, "he is too big Carol." "he is almost 13 Carol". Well, maybe I'll let him decide if he is too old for holding and rocking. However, I'm tucking that lil bugger in at night and that I can promise you. Just like a good MeMe should. I've been given a good example of what I should be and do with my Grandchildren and I thank her and God for that. Can I live up to it? Will I do as good of a job? I'm going to give it all I have. I want him to leave after three weeks and have sweet memories in his heart. He's gonna need them.