Mam-maw

The one constant in my life was Mammaw. Always there. Always upbuilding. Always mine. Oh I admit that there were other grandkids but I still felt the sense of being hers, all alone. When my mom was cleaning, which was a daily thing, I was at Mammaw's house, learning stuff about fabric and fibers and textures. Sh was a good cook in the kitchen that PawPa had made for her. But she much preferred to create something tangible, something that would make total strangers give compliments. She kept sewing for my aunt well into her forties and my cousins and me, too. Not into our forties, because she wasn't around that long. She made sport coats for my brother. Yes I do have a brother, although he considers himself an only child. She made a couple sport coats for my husband when we were first married. He doesn't fit them now. SIGH! He grew up. She was a widow when she was 52. Independent! She finished her life in the house that her dad had given her as a young wife and in the house she had birthed 4 children. My uncle insisted that the ambulance not turn the siren on as they took her to the hospital where she died.