The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
By Elaine Slater Reese
I always loved my two grandmas. But when I was young, there were some things about them that just didn't make sense to me.
Nana Slater's huge library table in front of the window was filled with African Violets. They were always blooming, and she seemed to find joy in nurturing them.
Why would anyone find pleasure in watering lots of pots of dirt and some green leaves?
By her small rocking chair, she cut and kept balls of rags which she made into rugs. Didn't she have anything more exciting to do? And she used a magnifying glass when she read. Why didn't she just get new glasses?
Why did she always make biscuits or waffles or brown sugar cookies when I came to visit? Why did she pray before meals? Why did she have me sit at her feet by that rocking chair and read the Bible stories to me?
Why did Nana Barber always want us to come for Sunday dinner? And how in the world did she get that wrinkled? Why did she always insist on mending clothes? Wouldn't it have been easier to just buy new ones? Why did she take the gifts we gave her and put them away to save them for SOMETIME?
Why didn't they want to eat pizza? They wouldn't even try it. Why did they each have a shelf filled with medicine bottles? Why did each have a box of special toys - just for us to play with? Why did they always want a copy of our new school picture? And how could they possible have been that stiff? How could anyone groan so much just getting up out of a chair?
And they would rather visit with old friends than go somewhere exciting. They took short naps in the afternoon. They never seemed to have much money and were very careful how they spent it. I loved them both dearly, but knew I would never be like them.
But now when I look in the mirror, get up out of the chair, or take my pills, I understand.
Now when my grandchildren visit - the rest of the world can wait!