Permelia Ruth Gravitt September 6, 1893 - July 25, 1976I did manage to find the things of hers that I took in the photo. Many a jar was filled while canning with that funnel. The old knife cut small slits in a hunk of salt pork to go in pinto, navy, butter beans or mustard greens. In the bowl I haven't found would have flour and ingredients for biscuits she made every morning for granddaddy, mama, Maw and me. I can smell the buttermilk as she pours it into the mixture and stirs to put on a floured board to roll out and cuts the biscuits with the little biscuit cutter.
Her house was always clean and neat as Pine sol permeated the air. Every morning her bed was freshly made and #1 rule was do not sit on my bedspread. Across from the bed stood the old dresser, two drawers on each side with a partition in the middle that held a glass shelf in front of the attached huge round mirror. On that shelf were the four items, glass replica of a B52 bomber, carnival glass vase, and the red and green vases. #2 rule was do not touch items on the dresser unless she was watching and then very carefully.
#3 rule never pilfer in her purse, Never.
It was natural to see her sit bare footed at the end of the day as she kicked off her shoes and pulled out her big black bible to sit and read a spell. granny was never a big talker and I don't recall her ever trying to teach me from her bible, but I bet she did. I think it was difficult enough for her to learn herself. She took care of me, the house, and Maw while granddaddy worked at his job as Janitor of the school and mama worked at Williams and Dickeys sewing factory making kaki shirts and pants that still sell today in the stores.In front of the house pictured is where I lived for the first seven years of my life. One morning there was a small flat bed trailer parked out front. A little boy from down the street and me were playing cowboys and Indians underneath, he next to one wheel and me up front looking back at him, when that door flew open and granny stood their shaking that pine sol pop filled with dirt and yes she did raise her voice, "Lillian Marie! you get yourself out from under that trailer and into this house right this minute." I was five years old.
Until now I have always had a very strong sense of smell which may be one reason my memories are tied to the smell of her kitchen. There was rarely a day when the steam of a pot of beans would not fill the house as the oven put out the sweet smell of fresh corn bread sticks being baked or my most favorite meal time which was breakfast. There would be bacon frying, while buttermilk biscuits baked and fried eggs. The aroma of coffee being perked on the stove. Today our coffeemakers rob us of that pleasure. I would stand and watch the liquid turn brown as it jumped up into the glass ball on top of the tin coffee pot. We had butter and apricot jell on those biscuits but granddaddy and maw always had molasses on theirs.
mama remarried Marcus Dibben on my sixth birthday. They moved to an apartment and I remained to go to the first grade and did not join them until school was out that year. I left them an everlasting memory when I came home with the measles. Granny banned me to bed in a darkened room and worse than that would not let me see the Sunday funny paper. You see, measles could permanently hurt hour eyes she said. Now I loved my granny and I promise I didn't do it on purpose but I caught the mumps and shared them with her. She suffered so badly with those mumps. I imagine being 57 years old and having the mumps was a real challenge.
affection was not demonstrated openly in our family. Love was but not the hugs and kisses very plentiful. One day after I was grown and married with three children, for some reason as we walked side by side granny reached her arm around my shoulders with a brief embrace. It happened so quickly I had to think hard if it really happened. She made ma a little dress from a flour sack after she finally used it all up. Now who needs hugs when somebody loves you enough to do that?
One particular day mama and me went to visit and under the cake cover was a yellow cake. We could always depend on a chocolate cake being there but this time we were disappointed. Her remark, "well, I have to cook for granddaddy once in a while!: So we ate yellow cake.
Times were hard in those early years and granny was my banker and my teacher. She knew how to handle money and she knew how to be certain she kept it. We got paid once a month so about two weeks into the month I had over spent our salary and would ask her for a loan. She would loan me $20.00 till pay day. Pay day came and back into her had went the borrowed $20. I don't know how long that went on, but I do know it was what taught me to budget our money. never did she give me the $20, it was always repaid on time. It was the best thing she could ever have taught a young mother of two at the time.
Another thing granny taught me was to take care of things. When she passed away I got the old Coleman stove that we had took camping for all those years and inside the old card board box pretty ragged by this time, but neatly tied with a small cord. It still shone like almost new. I got quilts that she and mama had made. They were not soiled nor torn but just aged. She knew how to care for the things she held dear, like me and our little family.
Granny had a stroke as she was walking to the front door of the house carrying a carton of eggs. When we pulled away to go to the hospital where my mothers husband was in serious condition, mama looked in the rear view mirror to see granny slowly fall to the porch. Mama had remarried after my step father died and moved from our family home, which we purchased and therefore we took granny and granddaddy into our home for two years. Granny was paralyzed completely on her right side. Our children shared one bedroom and they had the other spare room. Those were hard times yet times of lessons well learned.
She was always such a modest person and as I grew up many times I saw her hide behind the closet door to dress in her gown for the night. I recall picking her up and carrying her covered with a towel to the bath tub from her bed and lowering her into a tub of warm water. I told her, "look into my eyes Granny, I promise not to look at you." We made eye contact as I washed her body and afterwards let the water drain and covered her with a fresh towel my eyes never leaving hers. The sweetest thing I believe I ever gave to my grandmother was not anything money could buy....her dignity.
She became unstable with her breathing and we ended up having to let her spend the remainder of her life in a skilled care facility. I couldn't give her what was required and she lived six months more.
I remember in detail the hospital stay that day as her life came to a close. We had all gone into see her and as we left she called out in a clear concise, no words slurred voice for the first time since her stroke, and said, "Nute will you pull up my covers, I'm cold." As I watched the eyes previously a cloudy blue shone like blue ice stones with a light shining through them. It took my breath away. One would never forget those beautiful eyes as she watched him come to cover her. We went back to the waiting room and the doctor came out and said she is going now. I asked if we could go back and he said only if we could stay controlled and quiet. As we stood by her bed the monitor sounded the heart beat that got weaker till the quiet scream as the line went straight and the chest did not raise again. There was no sound in the room. Only sweet silent peace.
