Today my Grandmother will be laid to rest in the town she grew up in beside her sister and mother. I couldnt be there but because I am so er I was able to write the following. My sister is going to read it at the service. 33 Pounds of Water By Paul Bryan Cricket Holler Crickie, I got to poop. But Nanny you just went a few hours ago I complained. I know honey but grab your bucket. It cant wait. So I grabbed the bucket Id learned to hate and headed for the bright red water pump in Genes front yard. Id pump 33 pounds of water into that bucket and carry it across the front yards of Genes house and the Van Buren residence, up the 8 steep steps and into the house so I could put it into the tank of the commode. When I was finished the toilet could be flushed. The cast iron pipes in the house on the side of the mountain that my Nanny grew up in froze and busted most winters in those days. After all, the house was only occupied on average a couple weeks a year back then. My Nanny and I would show up in the hottest part of the summer with a station wagon full of supplies. When we got there wed patiently wait, Nanny more patiently than I, for Uncle Harvey to come and climb under that house with the nastiest snakes and spiders imaginable, the kind you only find in the thickest of thicket. He would pull out the old busted pipes and measure, cut and rethread new ones and put them back into place. Hed slowly turn on the water only to find the next leak or busted pipe and immediately go into his own brand of tantrum, which included all sorts of colorful expressions but some how never included an obscenity. This would tickle Nanny and anyone that knew my Nanny would know when she got tickled, in particularly when she knew she wasnt suppose to be, she just laughed deeper and harder. She would have to duck inside cause she dare not let Uncle Harvy see. I must have been about 12 or 13 the first time I spent the Summer in Clifton Forge with my Nanny. I jumped at the opportunity to go. Id spent summer vacations with her in Arlington before, and though shed be at work until early afternoon and Id have to entertain myself, I knew when she got home wed play a game of some sort, or cards, or perhaps Id watch watch her make dinner or a pie for later. She was amazing company and she made me laugh. She made me feel safe and loved. She was an extention of my mother, beautiful, warm, funny and selfless. Seemingly without flaw. (In the eyes of a child anyway) My Nannys father built that house on the side of the mountain where he raised his family, my Nanny, her brothers Johnny, Jimmy, Harvy and Tommy and her sister, Sister. Nothing meant more to my Nanny than her family. Her beloved mother and father, her brothers and sister, her kids, her kids kids and of course her kids kids kids, and yes even her kids kids kids kids. So when we drove up that steep Hill to the house on the side of the mountain, it really meant something to her. She was home and she made me feel like I was home too. Wed sit around that wonderfully hideous red table, straight out of the fifties and wed talk about nothing and everything. Shed tease me about my water bucket and Id tease her and tell her that Uncle Harvys cole slaw was better than hers (which was possibly none to smart of me cause I would have to eat a different batch of cole slaw every night until I finally conceded that hers had surpassed his.). Wed sit on that front porch in those rocking chairs and stare across the mountain and dream. Dream in silence, she not knowing mine and I not knowing hers. Wed look across the valley to the road carved out of the mountain on the other side and watch the tiny little cars and wonder if wed see any of them coming up the drive to the house in the near future, sort of hoping they would but at the same time praying they didnt. Once we sat in silence for the longest time in those rockers looking across the valley until we noticed a couple of caterpillars inching across the banister right in front of us. She finally broke the silence and said Ill be dammed its a caterpillar race.. She named one Moe and the other Joe and we decided to place a friendly wager on the winner. I cant remember who won. Wed set out there on that porch rocking and swatting mosquitoes till the thrill of the lightning bugs performance gave way to exhaustion and then wed head in. Id have to make several trips to the well if Nanny decided she wanted a bath and she would heat just enough of the iron water that came out of that old well on the stove to make the water tolerable enough to get into. I would beg her not to make me take a bath because after all little boys hate baths and it was a lot of work drawing a new one. She would sometimes agree but more often than not there was more exercise in my future. Nanny slept in the bedroom off of the kitchen in the bed where her mother laid sick and died. I slept in the bedroom of the living room in the northwestern most part of the house. I believe it was the same place my great-grandfather use to sleep, my Nannys daddy, whom my mom also called daddy, and I always thought that was weird. The house made all sorts of weird creeks and noises and I had a 12 year olds imagination so I would often times end up in bed with Nanny which she didnt like to much claiming I would give her a right hook and an uppercut in the middle of the night. I always thought that was silly cause I didnt know how to fight and she never woke up with any marks or bruises. When I woke up in the morning Nanny would always be at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Sometimes she would be reading something and sometimes she would just be sitting there in the silence, deep in thought. I remember wondering what she was thinking about but before I could ask shed ask me what I wanted for breakfast. Well French Toast, certainly, cause my mom never makes that for me Id tell her. Of course this wasnt exactly true but the sympathy points it earned me went far with her. Later when either mom came up or we made it back home Nanny would yell at mom, Rita, why dont you ever make this poor kid French Toast?. I would blush a little and laugh a lot. But it wasnt all fun and games those summers, there was always lots of work to do in and around the house. Nanny would always find something to clean or a chest or chest of drawers or a dresser that needed to be cleaned out. I remember thinking She cleaned that same chest out last year and no one has been here to open it once until now, what a waste of time.. But it made her happy and I liked nothing better than to see her smile, but sometimes she didnt smile. Sometimes she went through those things and she cried and I didnt understand why. It made me sad. Today I understand those type of tears need to be cried from time to time. While Nanny was cleaning the inside of the house my job was to try to reclaim the yard from the mountain. It was a never ending chore. The threat of snakes and yellow jackets kept me on my toes. Some years my Nannys Uncle Denny would come to help. He would come to the front door and ask for the boy. Im pretty sure he never knew my name. He worked hard and so did I as not to embarrass myself or my Nanny. Sometimes when work was over and my Uncle Harvy finished his job at the railroad for the day hed come get me and wed go pick blackberries in the mountains and my Nanny would bake a cobbler that night or wed just eat them with sugar and cream. Nanny and Harvy loved them but they werent my favorite cause I didnt like the seeds. Sometimes wed stay an extra week and sometimes we didnt but no matter what the time to go home always came to soon. I dont know if that old railroad town was magical or not, it may be. But Im inclined to think the magic I felt, the magic she felt, the magic she and I would talk about every single time wed see each other from those days on came from the love of family. Love she felt deeply and anyone that has that Van Buren, Hill or Holler blood feels deeply too. My Nannys body is gonna be buried beside her sister and her mother and her soul is already reunited with them. I cant imagine anything making her more happy. Ruth Estelle Van Buren Hill was my grandmother whom I called Nanny. I love her so much it hurts.
Posted on: Sat, 22 Mar 2014 15:26:41 +0000
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