The Great Story Teller

My grandmother was an orphan. Her mother died when she was a baby and her father was a bridge builder so he left her with relatives and traveled the world building bridges. She rarely saw him while she was growing up. She lived with many different aunts, one who was very wealthy, one who physically abused her and one who she loved like a mother, Aunt Minni. That's who she stayed with the longest.

When she married my grandfather she was 27 years old and had only known him for two weeks. My grandfather was a rebound boyfriend because she had been engaged to another man who she found out had a wife and kids in another state and she was still heart broken over him when my grandfather and her got married.

But she stayed married to him till he died at age 72. Throughout their marriage he cheated on her, hit on her, was an alcoholic for many years and was just mean a lot. But he became a Christian when he was in his late 50's and became a lot nicer then. She had always tried to serve God. God was her comfort and strength.

We lived with my grandmother and grandfather when we were young, from when I was around two years old till about 11 years old. My mom was raising three kids alone, so we had to live with them. My mom and grandfather worked and my grandma would take care of us kids.

My grandmother cried a lot. She also yelled a lot. Very high drama and intensity. She never physically abused us, she spanked us with Switches usually but she didn't hit us. She cooked, cleaned and made everywhere we lived a home. But she was always sad or mad it seemed, rarely happy and upbeat.

Except when she was telling us stories.

She was a great story teller. She had a garden and we would be shucking corn, hulling peas or peeling carrots, for hours on the weekends sometimes so we would ask her about her life. It sounded like a movie, so unreal all the things she went through. But she loved to tell us facts too, educate us by telling us stories from history, or about how food grows or the body works and about the war. World War 2. She was a ship builder in World War 2. She worked in the ship yard on Mobile Bay. She had some great stories.

I think she was happiest when she was telling us her stories. She would light up.

I think that was one of her gifts, story telling. She passed it on to me. Only I tell my stories in writing, I'm not as good at speaking them as she was.

There is a therapy in writing. Especially if you are put on Earth to write. God gave me this gift. The gift of telling my stories and other stories. Ones that I feel burning inside me, that have to be told. The world has to know about this..it could change a life...it could change the world.

That's how I feel sometimes.

Thanks Grandma.

Comments

Karen said…
I always love hearing about your grandma. People of that generation were just the real thing.
Unknown said…
Reading this makes me miss my Nannie! She was amazing and had that "grit" about her that everyone from her generation had and you can't seem to find it these days. Thanks for sharing.

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