The Patience of a Grasshopper

Driving to my cousin’s residence for a Christmas Open House Celebration, I was eager to see extended family for the first time since last Christmas. I was just outside of Montgomery, Alabama, on a winding country highway behind a car that I wanted to pass. It kept braking hard on every curve. How annoying!


I watched in anticipation for an end to the double-lines on the road that prohibited passing so that I could pull around. But the road was too curvy.


Growing impatience showed through my frequent sighs as I continued to trail this car. Because this was unfamiliar territory to me, I would take no shortcuts to save the monotony today.


I finally realized that I would not be passing this car until we reached the next road. For someone with the patience of a grasshopper, replacing my frustration with acceptance would require a fresh perspective. This was the Christmas season. So I needed to have a different attitude.

Besides, I thought, I am sure that on a road somewhere in Opelika, Alabama, my grandmother, Mamaw, was unwittingly doing the exact same thing to some other poor soul, bless her heart. (I don’t know about the North, but in the South, you can say anything about anyone you want as long as you follow it up with the words ‘Bless her heart’) I would want that person to be patient with her. I need to have the same patience with this car that I would want someone else to have with Mamaw. 

I sang to the Christmas carols playing on the radio as I noticed the autumn leaves blowing gently in the chilly breeze. I look back to the car I was following only by necessity. It was white. What a coincidence. Mamaw’s car was white, too. That made it easier for me to follow my scenario of treating the driver kindly.

In Alabama, the number on the car tags begin with a two digit number indicating the county of residence for the car owner. As my boredom forced me to look around, I looked at the numbers on the car tag. What a coincidence. They were the same numbers for Mamaw’s county-Lee County. Again, my scenario was valuable.

Then it hit me. That WAS Mamaw that I was following! Oh My! I HAD to stay behind this car now, whether or not the double yellow lines continued. For there was no way that I could arrive at the open house to hear my family fussing at me about blowing past my Mamaw on the way to the party.

I sat back, and took it easy the rest of the trip. I might as well sing louder…

copyright 2011 by Kathy Robbins

If You Don't Like the Way I Drive, Stay Off of the Sidewalk!

“Sissy, should I call the police?” my grandmother, Mamaw asked my mother using a concerned tone. Living about three hours apart, they were on one of their regular early morning phone conversations, almost always initiated by Mamaw. These usually started with her calling my mom, aka Sissy at 5:00 a.m. at the earliest, and in the most innocent voice that she could muster, asking if she woke my mother up;(which she always had). She didn’t just reserve the early morning intrusions for my mom. One time, she and my grandfather showed up on my sister’s doorstep on Christmas morning around 6 a.m. They didn’t understand why they were greeted with sleepy eyes.

“Why would you call the police, Mother?”, asked my Mother, sitting up in bed. It isn’t every morning that she received a call at 5 a.m. being asked by her elderly mother about calling the police. She turned on the bedside lamp. She had to squint.

“To tell them about that car I ran into a few days ago,”, offered Mamaw.

Sissy jerked her head, wondering if she heard correctly. “You ran into a car a few days ago?” she asked. She was frowning like someone does when they smell a terrible odor.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Mamaw offered. “That woman shouldn’t have been parked on that church sidewalk!!! It was her fault that I hit her!”

“You hit a car parked on the sidewalk……at church?!” Sissy asked with incredulity.

“Now, Sissy, she is NOT supposed to be parked on that sidewalk! When people park on the sidewalk, people have to walk around their car. Everybody knows that.”

Mother, what were you doing DRIVING on the sidewalk?” Sissy asked. She sighed and shook her head. How much longer would she and her sister, Mary allow their mother to keep driving, she thought. She had turned around and swung her feet down on the side of the bed. So much for anymore sleep, she thought. 

Mamaw said, “Well, I was just backing up, leaving church and wham! She wasn’t supposed to be parked there! All I need to know is, do you think that I should call the police?”

Sissy said, “You didn’t call the police when you hit the car?”

Mamaw replied, “No, Mrs. Such-and-so was in church and if I would have called them, then we would have had to wait for her to get out of church. We needed to get home so I could make lunch for Edgar (her husband), and well, she shouldn’t have parked there to begin with!”

“Well, why are you asking me?” Sissy asked.

“Because you are my insurance agent” replied Mamaw.

“Ohhhhh Lord” Sissy replied. “Did it damage your car?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Did it damage Mrs. Such-and-so’s car?” asked Sissy.

“Not that I could tell”, replied Mamaw. “But I was thinking that maybe I should call the police just in case they find damage to her car. And not only that, but they ought to write her a ticket for parking on the sidewalk! That is against the law, you know!”

“Mother, if they write her a ticket for parking there, they are liable to write you a ticket for not reporting the accident AND  for driving on the sidewalk!” Sissy informed her. She took another deep breath and shook her head again. Her head was starting to throb. The phone receiver was starting to feel heavy.

“So you don’t think that I should call the police?”, Mamaw quizzed.

“Mother, if you haven’t called them already, I don’t see any reason to call them now!” Exasperated, Sissy was almost yelling now.

Mamaw changed the subject. They finally ended the conversation. Sissy went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Maybe the aroma would help to calm her nerves. It usually worked when her mother aggravated her early in the morning. 

Time passed and everything worked out fine. One day, I was doing my Christmas shopping when I spied a car tag for sale that said, “If You Don’t Like the Way I Drive, Get Off the Sidewalk”. I thought of my Mamaw. I HAD to buy it for her. I did and gave it to her for Christmas. She got as mad as a wet hen! What did she say when she read the tag? “Now everybody knows that she wasn’t supposed to be parked on that sidewalk!!!”

Thanks to Mamaw, I guess everybody does……

copyright 2011 by Kathy Robbins

Sister Matches

My grandmother, Mamaw had lived a full, long life and was in her late 80’s. My whole family converged on her house in East Alabama to celebrate her last Christmas on this earth.

My sister, Maresa, had her husband and two kids there. I was there with my husband and two kids.

Celebrating Christmas at someone else’s house is always hectic. In addition to the normal packing, there is last minute shopping to insure that everyone has a gift. I was horrified to realize after we had arrived at Mamaw’s house that I had failed to get her a Christmas gift. What do you buy for someone that has accumulated a lifetime of possessions and memories? Someone that, if she needs something, she can just go out and buy whatever she needs? It was a hard task for the well organized person, much less for me.

So, I did what I had always done when we were growing up. I told Maresa about my error.

Her smile immediately calmed me as she said, “Don’t worry about it. I bought some extra presents. I have something that I can give you to give her. And it is already wrapped.” I breathed a huge sigh of relief. My wonderful sister had come through for me once again.

Mamaw had a gas fireplace. It was great: the beauty and warmth without the mess of a traditional fireplace. It had to be manually lighted. The best thing to use was long matches, which gave the most protection from being burned. They were twelve to 18 inches long. Maresa had bought a box of those for Mamaw’s Christmas present and this is what she was letting me give her instead. Maresa always had the best ideas!!

On Christmas day, we all gathered around the Christmas tree after breakfast and someone distributed the gifts. My grandmother opened her matches and she was so excited! She told me that it was the best gift that she had received. I just chuckled and shot a glance over at my sister who was chuckling too. Then Mamaw started talking about how good I was at picking out gifts, and buying presents at Christmas. Well, she just flat out started bragging on me to everyone. I just smiled and kept looking back and forth from Maresa to Mamaw.

I was wondering if Maresa would tell her the truth: that it was her idea and her gift, not mine. She never said a word. As the day progressed, and my Aunt and cousins all called Mamaw to wish her a Merry Christmas, Mamaw bragged on me and my gift to her to every one of them. Every time she did this, I would look at Maresa with eyes widened and a smile and Maresa would just smile back. She never divulged our secret.

That selfless act of Maresa’s was truly a gift to me.

Amen.




copyright 2011 by Kathy Robbins

After life

Hosea 13:14 " ...Where, O death, are your plagues?
Where, O grave, is your destruction? "



I was blessed with the best grandmother ever. We called her Mamaw.

All of my young life, my family regularly traveled the three hours northeast from Brewton, Alabama to Opelika, Alabama, where my Mamaw and Bampa lived. As soon as we arrived, we were greeted by my grandparents, and immediately ushered into the lighted kitchen, where we were fed, regardless of whether or not we had eaten dinner. After eating what was usually a warm bowl of macaroni soup, we never had trouble sleeping.

Our Mamaw and Bampaw, they were quite a pair.

They were married 68 years when my grandfather passed away. Mamaw passed away a few years after that.

When Mamaw went into the hospital for the last time, she knew that things were bad and she told my mom to call all of us and let us know to come. So, I packed up my one year old son Levi and went to Opelika straight to the East Alabama Medical Center to visit her in the hospital. I had someone to come and get Levi so I could stay as long as I felt comfortable. She was having trouble breathing. Her lungs were damaged from radiation treatment that she had received as part of treatment for breast cancer years before. The cancer was eradicated for a few years and then returned into her bones.

My uncle Jack was at the hospital, sitting with her and trying to help her to feel secure. But she kept asking for my mom, who had been at the hospital all day and had gone home to get some rest. I stayed a while, and then went home to her house.

Uncle Jack came to the house the next morning and announced that Mamaw was resting comfortably. I think that she was in a coma. I went to the hospital and had to leave because my son needed a nap and could not sleep at the hospital. I left with him and got a motel room where he could sleep without any distractions. While at the motel, my cousin, Toppy arrived to inform me that Mamaw passed away. My mom had sent her there to tell me so that she wouldn't have to do it over the phone. I cried and thanked her and got Levi ready to go to the hospital to see her before she was removed for the funeral home.

When I arrived, there was a full room of family waiting to go into her room. There were also close neighbors and the aides who worked at the house helping her to do housework and dress. I went around the room hugging people one by one, telling each one that my grandmother loved him or her dearly. Every single one of them responded by saying, "I know, she told me all the time."

What a gift she had to let people know how much they meant to her while she was still alive.

We went into her hospital room to say our last goodbyes and to see her peaceful before they left with her to go to the funeral home.

I returned to the motel and got a nap with Levi. After we awoke, I was praying on my knees. I was praying for her soul and that God would take her in his loving arms in heaven. It was then that I saw an image of Mamaw in my mind. She was dressed up and her hair was fixed nice and she had on makeup and looked very pretty. She told me that she was so happy; for me not to worry about her because she was OK. She said that if she had known about how wonderful that place was before she came, she would have gone a long time ago.

At that point my grief was immediately replaced with joy. I thanked God for her life and for taking care of her.

I related this story to my family and told them what a comfort it was to receive such a message. Some of them were comforted by this.

And now, I go through life with the assurance that what we are doing on this earthly plain is very important. But I believe that the real living will be with Jesus in heaven.

I still miss Mamaw. But I still have comfort from this image of her after death. And I am assured that if I press on toward the prize, I will see her again.

"Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?"-- I Corinthians 15:55

Patton

I was chillin'. It was the last day of school and school was over. Hallelujah! No more days of having to wake up uncooperative boys to get them ready for school. Nope. Not for 3 more months.

Since I knew that we were all safe to sleep in, and two of my boys were spending the night with friends, I lounged on the couch (Yes, I am from time to time a couch potato), and turned the TV on to a movie channel. That particular night, they were having a special weekend of nothing but war movies. And the particular movie that was on was "Patton." Seeing this movie again brought back a flood of memories.

This is a movie that I have watched numerous times. This is an old favorite for me. And I can never watch it without remembering the first time that I saw it at the old Ritz Theatre in my hometown.

I went with my sister. I was in 3rd or 4th grade. I don't remember the rating, but I do remember that I heard more cursing in one place than I had ever heard in my life. Back then, cursing was a really big deal. Now, not so much. And not only was I amazed by all of the foul language, but there was a man in the movie theatre who laughed every time that Patton cursed in the movie. He didn't just chuckle, he laughed out loud, very loudly. And I can remember that my sister and I wound up watching this man almost as much as we did the movie, because, well, to tell the truth, he was making a scene in the theater. But we couldn't say anything, because he was an adult, and we were just kids.

Whenever I see the movie "Patton" to this day, I think of this man. Who was he? Is he still alive? Does he still watch this movie? Does he still laugh when he hears the vulgarity? What in the world was so funny in the first place?

I especially like the scene in the movie where Patton is talking about feeling like he had participated in the great battles in history in a former life. This scene is mystical, and arouses my curiousity about life after death.

After watching this movie at the theater, I remember checking out a biography of General Patton in our school's library. The movie definitely made me more interested in this important figure in the military history of our nation.

And last of all, this movie reminds me of a story told by my grandmother. My grandmother, Mamaw, we called her, lived in Opelika, Alabama. This is about 30 minutes to an hour from the Georgia line. And along the Alabama-Georgia border is the Chattahoochee River. The same one that was written about in a country-western song.

According to my grandmother's story, General Patton was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia during World War II. This was about 1 to 2 hours away from Mamaw's house in Opelika. Fort Benning was near Columbus, Georgia, which is said to be a sister-city to Phenix City, Alabama. The two cities are separated by the famous Chattahoochee River and the Alabama-Georgia state line.

At that time in history, Phenix City, Alabama was referred to as "sin city." The legend has it that Phenix City was as dangerous as any city in the nation. There was a big prostitution and gambling ring in that area at that time. The corruption and resulting crime was so bad at one point, that Marshall Law was implemented for a few weeks to get the city under control.

One night, quite a few of General Patton's soldiers went in to "sin city" to have a good time and apparently succeded. But too much so, for they were arrested and put in to jail. The problem for General Patton was that his soldiers were to deploy in the next couple of days, and he felt that he needed them. So he contacted the authorities in Phenix City to request that his soldiers be released from jail so that they could deploy. The officials would not comply.

So, the story goes that General Patton got angry and insisted that his soldiers be released. Again, the local officials refused. General Patton informed them that if they did not release his soldiers, he would have the army to surround that jail and blow it up to get release for his men. They still refused. (As I type this, it is starting to remind me of the story of Moses and the Pharoah).

General Patton, led the Army's 2nd armoured division's tanks on the highway across the bridge over the Chattahoochee River into Phenix City, and lined the tanks up in front of the jail where his men were held. Again, he told the officials that they had one more chance to free his men before he attacked the jail with his tanks.

This time, they acquiesced. The soldiers were released from jail and General Patton moved his tanks back over the bridge and on to Fort Benning. The rest of the story, well that is history.

But every time I rode with Mamaw over that bridge, she would tell that story that all of the locals knew, but many people in other parts of the country did not. I think of that story every time I watch the movie "Patton".