By Georgia Osten
I think of her often, lately almost all the time for some reason. For as far back as I can remember, she was in my life, the person I admired most – That’s my Granny. My mom was an only child and so was I, so I was the only grandchild she had. She was a practical nurse by trade. When I had my tonsils taken out she put on her uniform and took care of me, bringing me ice cream in bed, playing games with me and watching TV. My parents took a lot of road trips, Granny was always invited. We played gin rummy in the back seat for hours and hours on these trips. Granny took me to a wedding, we crashed … She knew I had never been to one, so she found one and we entered, sat on the Bride’s side, Granny grabbed a clean hanky out of her pocket bag and placed it on my head. If you went to church with Granny, you always had to wear something on your head and she always had clean handkerchief. I still have a stack of them. I became a Catholic while I was in high school. She was quite the influence.

She taught me how to crab – chicken neck on a string and a net on a long pole. I was born with an olive complexion, Granny was NOT. Wearing a big brimmed hat, always a dress, because I never saw her in slacks or clam diggers (capris), a long-sleeved shirt that had belonged to my grandfather, stockings rolled down a bit just below her knees and always close-toed shoes. We would bring home coolers full of crabs.

She’d stay up late with me to watch scary movies. She taught me how to make fried chicken wrong…we would always fry it too hot and would end up having to put it in the oven to finish cooking. I remember one night we had lime sherbet for dessert and a virus snuck up on me, I was sick all night. I’ve never been able to look at that color green since then without feeling a little queasy.

Granny and my first child, Leigh, were great friends. Leigh would climb all over Granny as she sat in her recliner, climbing behind her or sitting down on the floor between Granny’s feet watching whatever Leigh wanted to watch on TV. As usual, Granny’s stockings would be rolled down just below the knees.

Five years later, Matthew was born. Mom handed Granny a picture of him and she just hugged that picture to her chest with tears in her eyes. She never got to meet him, she died when he was less than a month old.

I wish she could see all the grands and great grands she has now. Guess what Granny, twins are coming in April – what a birthday present that would be for you. You’re doing a great job up there – keep on watching over all of us!
[1-23-2017]