This is a photo of grandparents I never knew. John Edward and Stella Ferguson. My dad's parents. Everyone called them MaMaw and PaPaw. Not sure where or when this photo was taken but I love the caption on the back....it reads: "Us. HA!"
Here's Mamaw with her chickens! (June 1955)I wouldn't want to even begin to count the number of poor chickens that met their death at her beckoning! She had a large family to feed after all!
And my dearly loved Aunt Luella and Uncle Dock, my "pseudo-grandparents." Two very special people, a rare treasure of a pair! My brother says they were teenagers trapped in old people's bodies!! To say Aunt Luella (the oldest of the Ferguson sibling clan) had "spunk" would be a severe understatement. Ferguson fire flowed in her veins! But she also had a generous and giving heart. I loved going to visit their clapboard house that Dock built at the base of the mountain. The wide front porch was lined with rocking chairs to be filled in case of visitors. That picture wouldn't be complete without Uncle Dock---the most gentle man I ever knew---(when he wasn't working) resting his bum knee, swinging slowly on the porch swing sipping Luella's fresh homemade sweet *and I mean dead sweet* tea! (Uncle Dock was only on the porch swing when the Atlanta Braves weren't playing baseball on TV, or else you knew exactly where to find him!! Especially when the Braves were playing the Phillies!)
And yes, of course, Aunt Luella, we will stay to supper. She desperately wanted to serve us almost as badly as she wanted to be in on all the conversations. I can just see her now, hanging out the front door talking with a half-sliced tomato and a paring knife in her hand! Just interrupting Dock before he could speak, "Well, Luellar, as I's a-sayin...." (His famous joke: "When we got married, I loved your Aunt Luellar so much I could just eat her up, then after we got married, I wished I hadda!")
And speaking of hanging around, even when it was long-past time for us to leave, she'd hang on the open car door or the rolled-down window to talk for another hour or run back into the house for some intended-but-forgotten Avon gift. I don't even know how many years she sold Avon.
As a child, I was always fascinated by Aunt Luella's hair. She always wore it rolled up and twisted beautifully around her head. On one particular visit (I was visiting without mom and dad this time---it was such a treat to be left there to be spoiled by them while my parents visited other friends or a distant relative I didn't care to visit), I mustered up enough courage to ask if I could brush (with a black-bristled, pink-handled Avon brush, mind you!) those long flowing locks, gray with age and wisdom. She unpinned her hair and it tumbled nearly to the seat she was sitting on!
I don't know if that was the same visit when I'd ridden into town with Uncle Dock in his pick-up (Old Blue?) to the store to buy Cokes (Mamaw was the one who liked the taste of Pepsi better) and snacks--I'm sure Mayfield milk products were among the items purchased! (I was allowed to eat at the kitchen table with the open bag of cheese curls and dip to my heart's content!) Or if that was the Sunday afternoon visit she insisted on ironing my slacks on the couch before evening church! (She probably wore a dress every single day of her life!) She and Dock had recognition pins from their local church signifying that they had not missed Sunday School in two decades!
Aunt Luella promised me that she was going to live to be 120. Do I feel betrayed that she didn't keep that promise? Not a bit, but I do know my heart stopped and then wrenched terribly at that Sunday afternoon phone call from family the day she died. She collapsed in her kitchen, clearing away Sunday dinner. She was a very young 81. Mom told me later that she had already been planning to make the long trip north for my high school graduation to surprise me.
I recently came across a letter that she wrote me. The envelope was addressed to: "Little Miss Kimberly Ferguson." I'll treasure it always.
