This past Saturday I spent the day with my extended family, mother's side. My mom is one of eight children so I have a very large family. We still get together at least once during the summer in order to make sure we stay in touch. Like all families ours has experinced the lose of some of its most important members. In 2004 and 2005 we lost my mamaw and papaw, the true foundation of our family.
I was talking to someone the other day about how I use to spend weeks at a time at my mamaw and papaw's house in the summer. She asked, "Oh, did they live at the beach?" This question really got me thinking about just how special my grandparents were and still are to me.
The answer is no. My grandparents didn't live in the beach but far from it. They lived in a doublewide (which you wouldn't know if you drove by b/c my papaw had bricked the entire house) in Dandridge and had no money to their name. Just recently I have started to think about this. I never knew they were poor or struggled. All I knew was that every time we drove in from NC, SC, or IN they were there with unconditional love. I still remember Mamaw's home-made biscuits (that she made every morning of her married life), papaw sitting in his chair into the wee hours of the morning reading Louis L'amour, Mamaw rubbing my back helping me to go to sleep, Papaw telling a story that he had already told a hundred times, Mamaw telling Papaw to shut-up, "we've already heard that one Ed," Papaw playing soccer with us in the yard at the young age of 80, Mamaw taking care of me when my brother and I had the Chicken Pox, Papaw worrying that a democract would be elected or worse that I would marry one, Mamaw worrying that I wasn't eating enough, Papaw fussing at us for leaving lights on or going to sleep with the TV on, Mamaw's bear-like hugs, Papaw' overalls, and I remember their unconditional love for one another and their entire family.
Mamaw died Sept 4, 2004. If you know me well, you know this was the day of my wedding. In the early hours of the morning my mother woke me up. She didn't have to say anything because I could tell just by looking at her that Mamaw was gone. My mom and her brothers and sisters were my heroes that day. It could have possibly been the worst wedding ever but they all came to the wedding with smiles on their faces wanting to make sure my day was everything my mamaw would have wanted it to be. Not only did my aunts and uncles not miss this special event but my papaw was on the front row. After the wedding, I saw my papaw and gave him a big hug and cried for the first time over my mamaw's death.
In August of 2005, not a year after my mamaw's death, my papaw passed away. A pattern was starting to develop because on that day I was in the wedding of one of my best friends. People were starting to not want me to be associated with them at all on wedding days. They saw me as collateral damage.
My grandparents were married for 71 years. My papaw said after my mamaw died that he never realized how much he would miss his Margaret, and my entire family believes this loneliness is what brought him home to the lord.
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