“It was important for me to understand that I was only a very small part of her picture. She was a person before she was my grandmother, and that was something I had never precisely considered.” ~Ani Baker

She would be 109 years old today, born on March 22, 1914, shortly before the beginning of World War I in a small Texas town, and she never strayed far from her roots during her 92 years of life. Granny was the youngest of four children, and she often talked about how they spoiled her as the baby of the family. In 1927 when she was 13 years old, Granny lost her 19 year old sister, Ruth, who died during childbirth along with the baby. That loss greatly affected Granny, and she often spoke to me of that tragic event. 

A lot happened in the world during Granny's lifetime. She saw the growth of both the radio and telephone which made their way into homes in America in the 1920's and 1930's. She would often talk about how at one time in her life they had a "party line" where several neighbors were on the same telephone line. In the evenings, her daddy would play an instrument (I can't remember what) over the telephone while she and her siblings sang, and other neighbors would get on the line and enjoy the free concert. She would also talk about listening in on neighbors' phone conversations, and she knew the neighbors listened in on theirs as well.

She lived through the Great Depression, during which time she gave birth to two sons - my daddy and my uncle Bill. She never talked to me about that period of her life, but I'm sure she suffered hardship like the rest of the country did at that time. She also lived through World War II. The only thing I remember her saying about that war was her recollections about the bombing of Pearl Harbor. She told me about how they listened to President Roosevelt's address to the nation on the radio, hearing first hand that famous line, "December 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy..." 

Granny lived a simple life - she never even learned to drive a car. When my PawPaw passed away in 1979, my daddy told her he would teach her how to drive. Her response? Sell the car - she had no desire to be behind the wheel. She was only 64 years old at that time - just seven years older than I am now. 

Granny loved to cook, and no one in my life has ever prepared anything that tastes half as good as Granny's cooking. She shared several of her recipes with me, but even when I make them exactly as she did, they just never taste as good as Granny's did. Holidays saw her table piled high with everyone's favorite foods, often overflowing to nearby furniture because the table wasn't big enough to hold it all. In fact, she always put her homemade candy on her bed because that was the only place where there was room for it. Granny also loved to eat. I remember going by her house one day after I was old enough to drive, and she had just pulled a beautiful coconut cream pie out of the oven. I asked if she was expecting company, and she said, "No, it's all for me!" It must've been, because she didn't offer me a piece!

Granny suffered a lot of loss in her life, but I guess that happens when you live to be 92. She lost my uncle (her baby) to cancer when he was only 65 years old, and she lost my dad in an accident a few years later when he was 68. I'll never forget the morning after that accident when my brother and I went to the nursing home where she lived to tell her that he was gone. It makes me cry even now - almost 20 years later - to remember that day, and her tears as the realization settled in upon her that she would never see him again - her oldest boy.  I also remember the searing image of my aunt pushing Granny's wheelchair up to his casket a few days later as she said her goodbyes.

In her last years, Granny's mind and memory faded. I would often go visit her and she wouldn't always know exactly who I was. When I reminded her that I was her granddaughter, she would say, "Oh, yes! You've always been my favorite!" I'm quite sure she said that to my brother and cousins as well. 

On her last birthday in 2006 I visited her, and it was a lovely spring day. The nursing home where she lived had a beautiful garden area outside, so I grabbed a wheelchair on my way in so that I could take her outside for a bit. She didn't want to go, but I insisted. Quite reluctantly, she finally got into the wheelchair, then looked at me very seriously and said, "Are you a good driver? That road out there (the hallway) is so busy!" I promised her I was licensed and experienced, and that seemed to satisfy her. While we were sitting outside enjoying the day, she looked at me and said, "You're pretty - do you have a boyfriend?" I told her I was married and had three children, and she just smiled, and said, "Oh, I know that!"

I was with her on her last day on this earth - a long, difficult day, made bearable only by a very helpful hospice nurse who walked me through some difficult decisions. I remember driving home at the end of that day, knowing she had passed into the arms of a gracious God and was reunited with those she loved so much - including my daddy. 

Granny, Caleb, and Daddy

Granny was never the get-down-in-the-floor-and-play kind of grandmother, and I think a lot of that is because of the era she grew up in. But she loved me, and I never had any doubts about that. I always loved to go to Granny's house, and spending the night there was a special treat. Granny's house became a welcomed haven during one especially difficult year in my life when my parents were living in Chicago and I felt like I didn't really have a home. Granny was always glad to see me, and her home was a place where you never had to knock. I can still see her sitting in her chair watching TV, smiling when she realized it was me walking through the door, and welcoming me in to sit and visit a bit. It was my Granny I couldn't wait to go visit right after Jeff proposed to show her my ring, and it was Granny I was so anxious to call when I learned I was pregnant with twins. I clearly remember introducing each of my children to their great-Granny, and I'm thankful they have their own memories of her. 

I've thought about Granny a lot in a different way since I became a Mimi, knowing that my Granny loved me like I love my grand babies. That knowledge makes her even more special. I am 50 years older than Lydia - Granny was 52 years older than me. Granny always seemed "old" to me, and I know my grandchildren think the same of me, even though I might not feel that way. I also know that Lydia, Henry, Owen, Noah, Charlotte and Lyla see me as their Mimi - just a small part of the picture of my life. That's also the way I saw Granny. 

Fredrik Backman wrote, "Having a grandmother is like having an army. This is a grandchild's ultimate privilege: knowing that someone is on your side, always, whatever the details." I felt that from my Granny, and I hope my grandchildren always feel the same from me.