We stuff our brains with tons of useless information and then we try to plug in some actual stuff that is good to know and we can’t remember it for the life of us! I mean, it would benefit me waaaaay more to remember whether we have milk! (yes, seriously) than my great-grandmother’s telephone number who has been kicking it with Jesus for almost a decade.
I am pretty good at remembering dates, birthdays in particular. I don’t remember everybody’s birthday- but, I remember a bunch. Like I would be fine without Facebook reminding me which friends are celebrating their birthday that day.
However, the person who’s birthday is October 10th would never be found on Facebook. She wouldn’t have time to surf the information super highway. And although today is her birthday, she is not alive to celebrate it… on earth. I would like to think she is having a wonderful party in Heaven with Glenn Miller opening up for the Choir of Angels and I know that only the best food and drinks are being served. God, of course, will give the birthday toast. I am talking about my paternal grandmother Anne.
When I did my blog planning, I realized that her birthday would fall on one of the days in my rotation. So, I thought I would do a throwback in not only her honor but my grandfathers as well since they too have passed away.
It has been in watching my parents become grandparents that I have come to realize that it was not my stretched memory of how much my grandparents loved me as only grandparents can love their grandbabies. I wish for my sake that I could see the three that are gone interact with Baby Bub. I am not trying to be sad, I am trying to honor them and to remember Anne’s Birthday in my own way.
When I was born, Anne was too young to be a grandmother. She was in her mid-fifties! She was adamant about not being called the traditional grandmother names. So, I called them by their first names: Anne and Dick. This first picture is of a young Anne and Dick. They were probably in their mid-twenties. I do believe this is close to the age Anne always saw herself in her head.
Anne and Dick were something else. It’s kind of hard to describe them. As sophisticated as Anne wanted to be, Dick was an outdoorsman from a rural Southern Alabama town. Sometimes the two of them were oil and vinegar and sometimes they were peas and carrots.
I miss them. Both of them were one of a kind. After Anne died, among her belongings, I found a large stack of letters that Dick wrote her while she was at Auburn. I come by my
pack-rat memory-keeping tendencies honestly! Dick was loud and wielded profanity fluently. I don’t ever remember him calling me anything besides “Baby Girl.” My Daddy called him Big Daddy. As my Daddy has gotten older, he has become more and more like Dick than ever before and this is why Baby Bub will call him Big Daddy- it’s a perfect opportunity to honor Dick’s memory and. it’s fitting.
Anne. She was too much. She was kinda larger than life and it is really still hard to believe she is dead. I mean, I thought she would live forever and I feel like she thought she would live forever too. It was and remains arresting that she is dead. She was the boss- she told everybody what to do, when to do it and how to do it and in what time frame she expected it done and if you didn’t follow her protocol, there was hell to pay. She also lived life to the fullest and encouraged everybody she came in contact with to do the same.
And this last picture is of PaPa and me circa 1983. I adored this man. Just like Anne and Dick, he and MoMo just spoiled me rotten! MoMo continues to- she has survived him 25 years. PaPa was a cowboy and a farmer when he had to! The only memories I have of PaPa are warm and fuzzy. Maybe because I was only 8 when he died but I’d like to think I only remember the warm and fuzzy memories because that is all there were.
Baby Bub has light hair, it shines red as a sunset in the sun. Bub and I dark hair. Actually, we have gray hair! But, both of us once had dark brown/black hair. Our friends teased us saying that our baby would come out with a gray hair. But, he didn’t. He came out with red hair. PaPa had red hair. Tickles me pink that Baby Bub has red hair. He may not keep it but, it has certainly been as if PaPa was just making sure I knew he was still around.
No matter what ever else marks October 10th or how much time passes- it will always be Anne’s birthday to me. Happy Birthday Anne! I love you and Happy October 10th everyone- I hope you enjoy your day.