There is something about this time of year, I think about her constantly.
Her birthday was in October and she died in October.
I loved her. I still do.
She wasnt' your typical "grandmother". She wasn't the kind you see on Hallmark commercials.
She swore.
She could feed a squirrel peanuts from between her toes. The squirrel's name was Pierre because he had a slit in his ear, like a beret.
She sewed beautifully. She make most of my clothes for years. I had hear ribbons to match. We would shop for hours for patterns and materials.
She never measured her ingredients when she cooked or baked. She just threw it in there. One time, we made chocolate chip cookies. Flat as a board. She forgot the flour. She cracked herself up.
She taught me and my cousins how to smoke cigarettes so others would not.
She could skip with one leg. It was awesome.
She didn't wear underwear but always wore a sweater.
She loved football and baseball and could scream with the best of them.
And she made up words and expressions. If somebody wore pants that were too short, she would say, "his shoe's need to have a party and invite his pants down."
She said that if you wanted to have sex, change your sheets and take a bath.
She would say when she was hungry, "I could eat the ass out of a skunk." Imagine that when you are 12 and your grandmother says that to you.
When we went to weddings, she would say, "there is nothing new here but the cake." Took me awhile to figure that one out.
And when I was dating, the words that rang out clearly, "it only takes a drop." All of my cousins and my brother would answer this is you awakened them in the middle of the night and ask them, how much does it take? "It only takes a drop." Remember, we were all dating at the time. Get it?
I adored her. I adored going to her house. I adored my grandfather too but I ADORED her.
When you pulled up to her house, there was a big window in the living room. I can see it today.
And then, on October 1, you would pull up and there it was, the pumpkin, proudly displayed in the window. She made it in ceramics. Shiny, orange. Big. And filled with the big Hershey bars and Baby Ruth's. When you were a kid and you saw that pumpkin, proudly displayed, knowing there was candy inside, it was like winning the lottery.And then, after the goblins retired on Halloween night, the pumpkin went down stairs to the basement for the next year. We would eat our Christmas dinner down there in the basement and that pumpkin would be sitting on the shelf. I think it was smiling at us.
My mom made a pumpkin too in ceramics class. Honestly, hers is better. Very real looking. Bigger. It is nicer.
Mom put hers in family room on top of the television. It came out on October 1 as well. She was smart enough not to fill it with candy bars.
When it was time to divide Mamaw's belongings, there was only one thing I wanted. The pumpkin. I had to give it a good home. I too had to fill it was big Hershey bars and Baby Ruth's.
I have my mom's pumpkin too. I guess I am a pumpkin hoarder.
I didn't wait till October 1 this year.
I put it out a week early. Not sure why, just wanted to connect with Mamaw. I know that sounds crazy, but when I see that pumpkin, it takes me back to that special place and time. I feel young and spirited. And I can see her. Smell her and hear her saying, "just one, you can have one candy bar."
Despite all the hustle and bustle of being an adult, that super shiny pumpkin takes me back to a simple time. The nicer, more real looking one, does too. Funny, I have two generations of pumpkins that sit proudly in my home and most people probably just think they are goofy ceramic pumpkins.
I think about her passing out candy bars to Mickey Mice and Batmans. I can hear her saying, "who are those cheapskates that only pass out a peice of gum? It is one night a year."
And I think about her saying, Stephanie, it only takes a drop to change your life forever."
She was right. And a pumpkin. A pumpkin that lives forever.
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