Remembering Granma May

  “It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. Except for one thing - the woman who lived in the home Ethel May was standing in front of, was gone. She had passed away over a year ago and was greatly missed by everyone who had known her. Including me, my name is Ethel May Carter and the woman in question was Martha May Carter, my mother. I was unable to say good-bye until now.

Now standing in front of her home memories of my childhood flooded back as a smile formed. To everyone who knew her, she was Granma May. I never knew how she came to be called that name, but that’s what she was called ever since I was born. Yet she will always be mama to me.

When others heard you call her Granma without pronouncing the d, if she was nearby and heard you, she would look at them and shake her head and correct them. “No child they are pronouncing it right. I am not grand by any means.” Granma would continue than add. “In fact, the meaning from the dictionary says that grand means of having more importance than others, is lavish or larger than … and I am none of those things.

The day that comes to mind where she had this conversation was the day, she and others in town, were planning my birthday party. What I remember was how everyone pieced together that days’ events as they honored her the day she was laid to rest. I am back now on the anniversary of her passing to honor and remember this woman who will be forever missed. The following is that story.

“To me grand means larger than life. Like the Grand Puba.” Another said referring to a cartoon they had watched.

“To me it’s those who have passed away because they don’t have to worry about the pain, hurt disagreements, illnesses…” Another said.

“True, but what does grand really mean? For all of us it means something different. But no matter what you think it means to you, it’s a good thing. Take that coffee cup over there. That’s a grand thing.”

Then Granma May cleared her throat. “Look, you all can argue and dispute the description and meaning later. I called you all here for a reason. Now please sit down, I am running out of time.”

“Time before what granma?” Kesha asked, now getting worried.

“Before your mom gets back. We must plan her party and do it before she gets back. She hates surprise parties.

“Then why are we throwing her the party?”

“Because it’s worse when no one remembers it’s your day at all.” Gran paused before continuing. “I made that mistake of doing that when Granpa and I first got together. It was a lesson I learned quickly and not without great pain to us both.” Granma May said as she looked at everyone who was listening to her.

It was no secret that everybody in town knew our family and knew the history of when we came here and the contribution we made to this town. The woman who Granma May was talking about was Ethel May, me, her daughter. I was one of the town’s schoolteachers and a beloved member of the town they say. And whether you were my son, daughter, or spent every day with me as my student, I was one of a kind others would say, because I was always there for the children of the town. Regardless whether they were my flesh and blood, student or one of the other children in town.

I always believed a child needed someone they could talk to. Especially when parents wouldn’t understand. It is hard to believe even my children needed someone else to talk to when their dad or I wouldn’t do. And it was because of what I learned from those children who came to see me, how to be a better parent and person. Now it was time to thank my mom for all she did. Even if the only way I could do that was at her grave. As I sat there I continued remembering the conversations that were had that day.

“I remember Ms. Ethel May when I went to school. She was the best teacher I ever had.” One young girl said smiling.

“Why is that?” Granma asked.

“She listens and is funny. When my dad was sick, she made me smile when I got scared, he might not come home.”

“Ah okay. So how is your dad?” Someone asked.

“So much better. She even helped me make a card for him.”

“I remember how sweet she was when I first moved to town and knew nobody in school. I have always hated moving because of my dad’s job, but she made me feel welcome.”

“She helped me with my math.” Another said.

“I learned to read thanks to her”.

And the stories continued as each person shared how she had helped them in one way, or another.

The more Robyn read this story, she remembered some of her teachers who were just as great as this teacher in the story was. She smiled and continued reading.

It was at that moment Granma May began to see that not only did her daughter mean a great deal to her family but almost every child in town as well. And that’s when it hit her to get everyone to record and make cards and banners for the woman who was loved by many. Me, And, up until that day, I had no idea what I meant to everyone. It is a thought I will and have treasured since then.

That night as I drifted off to sleep I had sweet dreams of a treasured childhood. One day I hoped I could give my child such memories. But until then, I would remember mama.

Suddenly I bolted upright in bed as a loud noise pulled me from my sleep. The dream I had, now a memory, as I sat motionless listening for any more sounds.”

As Robyn read, she couldn’t resist asking out loud. " So, did you have that baby?” Then she focused on the next sentence and laughed. ‘I told you not to ask me that. Well that’s alright my personalities never listen to me either. Now back to the story,’ the author wrote as she continued to tell her story. ….

‘Now sitting in the dark, alone, in bed, I wondered what woke me. I sat quietly for a moment longer but heard nothing. No sounds other than the fridge kick on and off and the heater firing up. So, I pulled the covers back and set my feet on the floor standing.

As I walked from the comfort and safety of my bed, I look down at the ground making sure there were no obstacles in my path, and there were none. I would hate to step on something in the dark. It seemed while the entire room was dark, the path I was walking was illuminated, as if leading me to where I needed to go.

With nothing out of place in the bedroom. I headed to the living room. And there it was… as if the entire room had been lit up as a spotlight premiering the latest car there sat a child in the middle of the floor trying to group together buttons that had scattered on the floor.

Sensing I was there she looked up.

“I’m doing my math, will you help?”

Not knowing who she was talking to, I just stood there, waiting.

When I didn’t move or say anything she just looked back down and continued playing with the buttons. Without another thought, I went over and sat down.

Nothing more was said after that as the two of us collected and shifted buttons in different amounts as the little girl added them over and over.

The scene soon faded, and I again was in a room as darkness surrounded me. I sat up and looked into my empty bedroom. Without a thought I got up and went to the living room where the child and I had been moments ago. When I looked in, the room was as I had left it hours ago when I went to bed- empty…..

As I stood there looking at the empty space, I wondered who the child was, and why she appeared to me????

Unsure of what I saw or why, I soon shook off the images, turned and headed back to bed confused.

When the alarm sounded the next morning, I found myself waking for the second time. Yawning and stretching I began looking around. I was in bed alone. My husband Greg was still on the road and wouldn’t be home until the weekend.

After a few deep breaths, I got up and out of bed. As I did before, I walked to the living room where I had seen the little girl. This time as I looked in, the room was empty and just as I left it the night before.

Thinking I had been just dreaming the little girl, I continued with my day by making coffee and breakfast as always. I then headed to my sewing room and there I saw them. The buttons that were in my dream the night before. Now trying to put the pieces together I found myself remembering back to my childhood and the teacher who taught me so much. She taught me to count with buttons and read with flashcards. Suddenly my stomach did flip flops as I remembered what I had vowed those years ago. That when I was a mom I would teach my child in the same way I was taught, in loving memory of that teacher.

It was at that moment the phone rang and I set the box of buttons down and answered the phone.

“Hello,” I said hoping it was Greg. I so wanted to talk with him. But it wasn’t. It was my doctor with the results of the tests I took a few days earlier.

“Mrs. Stewart, I want to congratulate you, you are going to be a mom.”

It took those words a while to seep in, but after a moment I began speaking with the person again. We then set up another appointment so I could begin making sure this little one was as healthy as could be while growing and developing.

Now sitting there alone with my thoughts, I began to wonder, if the dream and the memories of a woman who helped me become the woman I am were all premonitions to prepare me for that phone call and the news I had just received. The news that I would be a mom. I didn’t know. All I knew was nine months from that date, I would give birth to a beautiful baby girl .” And with that the story ended.

Now as Robyn sat there reading this, she had tears rolling down her cheeks. "That was so beautiful." She said out loud. Then she began sniffing, and she set the book aside and reached for a tissue. As she was blowing her nose Toni walked in.

“You okay?”

“Yea I’m fine. Just got teary eyed over a story.” Robyn said pointing to the book before tossing the tissue.

“Must be some story.” He said looking at the book then back at her.

“Yea it was. Now I’m going to switch it up and read something either romantic or scary. Sentimental is not something to read at work."

“Why don’t you write something of your own. This is the perfect time, with your workload cut anyway. “

“I just might do that,” Robyn said smiling as Toni turned and went back to work. Without another thought she grabbed he notebook and opened it to a fresh page. After a moment she began writing out some of the things she remembered writing when she was in school.

Once she finished jotting down her ideas, she just looked at them. They may not have been much, but she could write something based on those ideas and that was all that mattered.