Being around grandchildren has started me pondering. I look into their faces and try to imagine what they will be like when they grow up.Is the evidence there from the start. Then I started wondering what I was like as a child compared to the grandmother I’ve become. What traits have remained true from the beginning. I’ve just started the exploration. I’d like to invite you to join. 

 

Read the following essay then create your own anecdote from my childhood. I know, you don’t have the advantage of being there . . . or perhaps you were, watching from heaven, checking out your future mom. In any event it would be fun to read you imagined anecdote from my childhood based on the Mom you know now. Post your anecdote in the comments section. 

I'll invite Dad to post the next Rememory. Then we'll invite you to share anecdotes from each of your childhoods.

December 13, 2011

Who am I?

There is a beautiful Christmas song that goes something like this:

Baby, lying in a manger, slumbering so sweetly, what you going to be?

I’ve thought about that lately as I’ve cuddled Jackson. He is so happy, so sweet. I can imagine him being a powerful influence for good. I’ve also reflected on the life of my father, standing at the other end of this journey. What did his mother think as she held her baby close? Could she imagine the influence he would have on his children, grandchildren, and generations to come?

Then my mind diverted. I wish I could remember . . . me. What was I like as a young child? What did I feel? What was my character? Was I sweet – or a brat?  How did I relate to other people? My brothers are not reliable references. I distinctly remember their teasing. My sister Evelyn; well she’s younger and we both seem to share a memory deficiency. No help there.

Aunt LueCille and my Grandma Hymas

But recently Evelyn discovered a new source of information: our “Favorite Aunt LueCille.” She is my mother’s younger sister. 

Grandma Reed and Aunt LueCille

Turns out she was around a lot during those early years. She doted on us . . . and has stories to tell. So when I saw Aunt LueCille last week, I asked for the scoop. What was I really like?  

“Oh, you were so beautiful,” she gushed.

Hmm, this is going well. What else?

She told how my Grandma Hymas would bend over the crib and sing a tender little song, a sort of ode to my charms. LueCille hummed the melody. “Do you remember it,” she asked. "No, not really", I replied.

Me in the playpen. Imagine a crib

 

Imagine them singing to me, not stuffing a turkey

 

“This song offended your mother,” she continued, “but Grandma sang it to you anyway.” 

Then she told me the name of the song:
The Naughty Lady of Shady Lane

Here is a link to the song. It was sung by the Ames Brothers and released in 1954 – the year I was born. Make sure you listen to the end.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_M1SVioazHs&feature=related

It tickles me to imagine my grandmother singing this song, twinkle in her eye, enjoying the rhythm, the catchy melody, and the chance to tease my mom. That's my grandma, a not-quite-tamed spirit to the end. 

Sharon

Sisters - Sharon and Evelyn