My Grandmother, Mayme Burton, was not well known to me despite seeing her every year for 18 straight years. She was widowed 7 years before I was born, and she wasn't prepared for it; as most women of her era were not. She had very little education, leaving the public schools before the 8th grade to help bring in money to support her family of origin. Mayme was a 2nd generation German-American, whose family was not well off. She was only able to provide unskilled labor, but she worked for years and years earning very little. I think she was probably depressed; but her happiness seemed to show, when she was with her sisters and with my Father. Mayme's children, Joe and Helen (Tootsie), helped support her for over 40 years.
Boy, could she cook. Wow. The food was eye-popping. We'd travel to see her when school was out, so we'd be there in the summer just in time for fresh peach cobbler from scratch. Perfect consistency, perfect crust, fresh taste, and perfectly baked. Not to mention fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn OFF the cob, biscuits, gravy. It was a feast.
I loved my Grandmother, but didn't really know her well. She was quiet, I think not very confident with herself, and she was fairly sad. I think she hated for my Father to be so far (200 miles) from her. Unfortunately, I wasn't assertive enough to try to get to know her better or to question my Dad about her, in that way getting to know more about her. My Father did love his Mother, and wrote to her every week. They were all too "cheap" to use the phone for long distance calls. Sometimes you have to scratch your head about family.
Boy, could she cook. Wow. The food was eye-popping. We'd travel to see her when school was out, so we'd be there in the summer just in time for fresh peach cobbler from scratch. Perfect consistency, perfect crust, fresh taste, and perfectly baked. Not to mention fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn OFF the cob, biscuits, gravy. It was a feast.
I loved my Grandmother, but didn't really know her well. She was quiet, I think not very confident with herself, and she was fairly sad. I think she hated for my Father to be so far (200 miles) from her. Unfortunately, I wasn't assertive enough to try to get to know her better or to question my Dad about her, in that way getting to know more about her. My Father did love his Mother, and wrote to her every week. They were all too "cheap" to use the phone for long distance calls. Sometimes you have to scratch your head about family.
My Grandmother, Mayme Burton, was not well known to me despite seeing her every year for 18 straight years. She was widowed 7 years before I was born, and she wasn't prepared for it; as most women of her era were not. She had very little education, leaving the public schools before the 8th grade to help bring in money to support her family of origin. Mayme was a 2nd generation German-American, whose family was not well off. She was only able to provide unskilled labor, but she worked for years and years earning very little. I think she was probably depressed; but her happiness seemed to show, when she was with her sisters and with my Father. Mayme's children, Joe and Helen (Tootsie), helped support her for over 40 years.
Boy, could she cook. Wow. The food was eye-popping. We'd travel to see her when school was out, so we'd be there in the summer just in time for fresh peach cobbler from scratch. Perfect consistency, perfect crust, fresh taste, and perfectly baked. Not to mention fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn OFF the cob, biscuits, gravy. It was a feast.
I loved my Grandmother, but didn't really know her well. She was quiet, I think not very confident with herself, and she was fairly sad. I think she hated for my Father to be so far (200 miles) from her. Unfortunately, I wasn't assertive enough to try to get to know her better or to question my Dad about her, in that way getting to know more about her. My Father did love his Mother, and wrote to her every week. They were all too "cheap" to use the phone for long distance calls. Sometimes you have to scratch your head about family.
Boy, could she cook. Wow. The food was eye-popping. We'd travel to see her when school was out, so we'd be there in the summer just in time for fresh peach cobbler from scratch. Perfect consistency, perfect crust, fresh taste, and perfectly baked. Not to mention fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn OFF the cob, biscuits, gravy. It was a feast.
I loved my Grandmother, but didn't really know her well. She was quiet, I think not very confident with herself, and she was fairly sad. I think she hated for my Father to be so far (200 miles) from her. Unfortunately, I wasn't assertive enough to try to get to know her better or to question my Dad about her, in that way getting to know more about her. My Father did love his Mother, and wrote to her every week. They were all too "cheap" to use the phone for long distance calls. Sometimes you have to scratch your head about family.
