Stuff Mabel Said

Mabel was my granny, my great granny. And let me tell you, she was indeed great, as the name implies. She lived with us while I was growing up until one day she didn’t live with us anymore. She left our home to go home with Jesus in Heaven. That was some thirty-five years ago, give a few.

I still miss her. I still believe her spirit is here with me. I see her in the little things in life. I hear her in the spoken words of others. Just this past week, my neighbor said they were going to make a trip out West this year IF THE LORD’S WILLING.

That’s what Granny always said. If the Lord is willing. Its sweet how a spoken word can invoke a memory or two…or three. Some people remember a loved one when they see a bird or a flower. Other memories are tied to a food or a set of dishes or a favorite shirt. For me, my memories are tethered to the stuff Mabel said.

Her mother, which was my great-great grandmother, was full blooded Cherokee. I never met her to confirm this for my own self but I think she is the reason why Granny had such a deep connection to earth. Evidence of this connection showed up in her garden. She could grow a stick. Anything she put in the dirt would sprout and take root and produce. Sadly, that gene didn’t get passed down. But I try, none the less.

Granny had us girls, me and my sisters, out working in the garden with her. We hated it. It was hot. It was dirty. We complained. She said, “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop”. I’m pretty sure we were too young to know the meaning of that proverb and I’m not sure her words helped to get the garden worked but those words probably put a little fear in us as no one wants to associate with the devil, nor attend his workshop.

Granny had remedies for anything that ailed. She made poultices and chased me down to rub crappy smelling things on scrapes, cuts and bruises. You know, the normal stuff that happens to kids who play outside and fall from trees and wipe out on bikes. “Rub some dirt on it” is the phrase that comes to mind. Plenty of times, if needed.

Granny had a tangible connection to earth, but she had a deeper spiritual relationship to earth and to God. She knew things. She felt things that others didn’t feel. She had discernment. She prayed a lot.

Once in junior high school I was bullied by a girl three times my size. I never told my parents but somehow Granny knew about it. She pulled me into her room after school one day and sat me on her bed. She asked me about it and I cried. I think that was the only time I talked about it. As I stood from her bed to walk to the door, she gave me this advice…” Honey, the bigger they are, the harder they fall” and we never spoke of the matter again.

Once a month, I went to the bank with Granny. Even to the bank, she never wore her teeth. She reserved those only for church on Sundays. That’s another blog post for another day but what strikes me on the subject is that she always brought her best to the Lord, teeth included. But I digress.

Back at the bank, Granny would exchange her monthly government check for a pile of dollar bills and I would get to choose a Dum Dum Lollipop from the teller’s candy dish. My favorite kind was cream soda. Granny was happy. I was happy. We skipped together out to the parking lot where my mom waited in our wood paneled station wagon. For the record, I am not sure she skipped.

After returning home, Granny would pull out her money, which wasn’t much, and place it in neat piles. Each pile had a purpose. It was her system of budgeting. This was way before Dave Ramsey taught the world about the envelope system. That’s impressive as I think about it now.

Granny was the most thoughtful person I ever loved. Throughout the month she would use one of her stacks to purchase small gifts for people, mainly her grandchildren, from the mail order catalog called Fingerhut. When she had spent her limit, she would put all of her purchases in boxes and mail them off to all parts of the country.

Usually on Saturdays, we would get in the car and my mom would drive us to town to the post office so that Granny could mail her boxes. And if there was money left over, she would purchase stamps so that she could mail cards and letters.

Granny never let things go to waste. She even had us girls, me and my sisters, pick up glass bottles that had been tossed away by others so that we could collect the refund money. Back then, bottles were worth a few cents, but things only cost a few cents and we would collect enough to buy treats from the old country store that was close to our home. Once every couple of weeks, we would walk to that store, bottles in tow, to make the exchange. She would split the money evenly and we would buy candy.

Granny bought three pieces of pink bubble gum and a Pepsi with her portion. Not a tooth in her head, she would smack that gum til the sugar left. Cheeks up to her eyeballs and grinning a mile wide, she would say “See, I can chew gum”. And I can attest that while toothless, she could in fact chew gum and steak and pork chops and anything she had a hankering for.

Every weekday between ten o’clock in the AM and two o’clock in the PM she would be perched behind the television screen watching her “stories”, as she called them, and quilting. We only had one television in the entire house which meant that on no school days, I got educated on the who’s of daytime television drama. As The World Turns and Victor Newman counted The Days of His Many Lives amid many more who were Young and Restless, there she’d be…quilting away and talking to the television. “Aint that awful!” I would hear her randomly exclaim.

I’ve lived for forty-eight years and I am still remembering the stuff Mabel said. She spoke some nonsense. She spoke some truths. But she mainly spoke life. She spoke life to me all those years ago that still springs forth life today. Let this be a sweet reminder to us all that we have the power of life and death in the words we speak (Proverbs 18:21). We can destroy people or we can build them up. So let us be careful with our words. They can never be forgotten. Only forgiven.

Yet again, I digress. Absence indeed makes the heart grow fonder.

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