However, the most I remember about the grandmother I sort of knew ... Frances Smith of London, KY ... is that she chewed tobacco and was as delightful as a child when she came to visit us in Illinois because of the traffic in front of our house near Bismarck. Sh lived in a log cagin with two rooms, heated by a fireplace with an outhouse in back. I remember the snug warmth of feather comforters near that fire in the bedroom that held several beds. She had raised 8 kids there. My mother learned to cook there, starting at about age 4 in the lean-to back porch. The cemetery where Frances Bruner Smith was buried next to her husband Roland, was next door to the cabin I loved to visit. I thought Kentucky was a big adventure, handsome strapping woodsy men, lots of coonhounds and holy roller preachers railing fire and brimstone. I think one of the preachers was an ancestor, but most were more like the first described, especially my uncles.
So what will my grandchildren and hoped for great-grandchildren remember about me? Those memories are still happening! But there are some cool early ones. Will Aaron remember falling from the third bunk at Synod School? I had put a mattress on the floor where he would fall so he wouldn't break his determined 7-year-old neck on our first trip together! Will Kelsey and Morgan remember our being stuck on an interstate after a blizzard in north Arizona? The road crews just let the snow melt ... it always seems to by afternoon! Will Shannon and Jessi remember the adventures right here at the farm? Carried those lunches and small bags to gather outdoor treasures.
Have I ever said anything wise to them? Or memorable? Hmmmm... that's something to think about while we still have memories happening. Whatever they remember, the important thing is that we have been together. They know their grandmother. That's a great way to be remembered.
