Gather around.Pull up a chair.Take your shoes off.Make yourself comfy.
I shall tell you a story.A true story at that.
Here goes.
My Grandma Haynes was I guess the word is contrary.Or just plain hard to get along with.
Grandma always lived with us.Maybe because her daughters maybe could not take her ways.
My Momma looked after her in sickness and health.She always called Grandma Miss Haynes out of respect plus Momma had manners.
Nothing Momma did for her was good enough and about everything she complained.
Once Grandma told the next door neighbor that she could not eat Momma's cornbread which I think was perfect myself.
The neighbor showed up at supper time one evening with a black iron skillet of cornbread she had cooked.
Harold(Daddy)she said I brought you some cornbread.Daddy spoke up and said Momma's cornbread was just fine and no thanks.
Years later Momma told me in one of our late night talks which I miss so much that if Daddy had taken that cornbread she would have wrapped that big black iron skillet around his head.
So that gives you a little insight about what Momma was dealing with.There are many more stories I could tell but it would serve no purpose digging up old bones.
My Aunt Gladys who was sick and in her last days told Momma she appreciated the way she had looked after her Momma and thanked Momma.
I was reminded of this today by one of the residents here at the home.
Nothing that was done for him was good enough,done wrong or not quick enough.
All I can say was I felt sorry for the Lady who was helping him.
In closing I ask this favor.If I ever get where I'm hateful and mean and just a pain in the ole kazoombe just take me out back and you know use extreme prejudice.
I shall tell you a story.A true story at that.
Here goes.
My Grandma Haynes was I guess the word is contrary.Or just plain hard to get along with.
Grandma always lived with us.Maybe because her daughters maybe could not take her ways.
My Momma looked after her in sickness and health.She always called Grandma Miss Haynes out of respect plus Momma had manners.
Nothing Momma did for her was good enough and about everything she complained.
Once Grandma told the next door neighbor that she could not eat Momma's cornbread which I think was perfect myself.
The neighbor showed up at supper time one evening with a black iron skillet of cornbread she had cooked.
Harold(Daddy)she said I brought you some cornbread.Daddy spoke up and said Momma's cornbread was just fine and no thanks.
Years later Momma told me in one of our late night talks which I miss so much that if Daddy had taken that cornbread she would have wrapped that big black iron skillet around his head.
So that gives you a little insight about what Momma was dealing with.There are many more stories I could tell but it would serve no purpose digging up old bones.
My Aunt Gladys who was sick and in her last days told Momma she appreciated the way she had looked after her Momma and thanked Momma.
I was reminded of this today by one of the residents here at the home.
Nothing that was done for him was good enough,done wrong or not quick enough.
All I can say was I felt sorry for the Lady who was helping him.
In closing I ask this favor.If I ever get where I'm hateful and mean and just a pain in the ole kazoombe just take me out back and you know use extreme prejudice.
