Memories of a Beautiful lady

     I often find myself reflecting on the past, my past, my history. I think of all the things that made me, me. Visions float past of all that I have done and said. I recall things I have heard that have made an impression in my mind. Some beatuiful memories of a taste or a smell. Many of my memories are less than favorable but they are unique to me and are mine alone.
    Today I have been reflecting on one of my most cherished and beautiful memories, my grandmother , Mamaw. It is impossible to measure love. There are many a song and poem that attempt to define and measure love. I cannot say that love can truly be defined or measured by words. I can say that I have , do ,
and will always love my Mamaw very, very, much.
   I would like to share some of my memories of this wonderful, beautiful lady. These are memories that make me happy and sad all at the same time. Funny things,,feelings. How can a memory bring us from one side of the spectrum and to the other in a second? But that is what many memories can do,
   I can remember  laying in the bed in the back room of her house. I awake to the wonderful smell of breakfast. I can hear my Mamaw clattering pans about in the kitchen. I hear the birds making a fuss in the morning sun. Through all this I hear a sudden "Shit Fire" come from the direction of the kitchen. This was the only curse word I ever heard her say.(not the first time though).
   This made me giggle. She was taking a pan of biscuits out of the oven and her hand had started shaking and shook some of the biscuits out of the pan and onto the floor. This is the day I learned that she had parkinsons.
    I can think of no better place to eat lunch. I would turn down any five star meal, any steak house specialty, any of the finest cusines from around the globe , just to taste her fried potatoes one more time.I have tried many others fried potatoes, including my own, and none can or will ever compare to hers.I dont know what she did to the to make them taste so good,she could have spit in them for all I know. But they were the best.
   I would love to sit once again and listen to her stories of times past, and marvel at the trials and strife she had been though in her life. I remember that she never told these stories with any remorse. It was just the way things were. She would regale me with stories of my aunts and uncles, and my Dad, when they were young.
   Even though she had very little she gave what she did have freely. She would most always have others over for lunch. When times were hard for some of my aunts or uncles she would give all she had to help. I have been witness to this on more than one occasion. I consider her more of an angle than those who have much to give but give little. She had almost nothing and gave it all. What a wonderful world this would be if we were all like her.
    These are just a few of the cherrished memories I have of her. There are many more and maybe I will share them with you some day. I just miss her. I think of her every day. I think of how kind and generous she was. I think of the example of love, charity, and family she has set for so many of us. I am glad and proud that in my life I have met ,loved, and was loved by a true angle. My Mamaw