It is funny how a smell or sight or song on the radio can bring back a memory.......
Early this morning I was to meet some folks for breakfast at a local restaurant. I got there a little early only minutes after they opened. When I entered the first thing I noticed was the most wonderful smell of biscuts baking.....I instantly was reminded of my grandmother and was soon lost in thoughts of her as I sipped my coffee and my mind drifted back to about 45 years ago......
My grandparents place was a short walk across a corn field from ours when I was a boy.I spent many days and nights with them. She was a small, spry, little woman of Scottish descent who had a kind word and smile for anyone and a heart over flowing with love for her fellow man and especially for her family. She could also be as fearless and protective as a mother bear if she thought someone was being mistreated. She was a Christian lady who didn't just talk the talk-she also walked the walk....and taught me much by word and example......even though some of the lessons didn't take until long after her death.
I never remember her not working and staying busy -cooking, cleaning, gardening,canning-I don't remember a idle moment during her waking hours. And boy was she a cook! She arose every morning long before the sun and prepared a huge breakfast. There was always eggs (from her own hens) bacon or ham (from her own smokehouse) and ALWAYS made from scratch homemade biscuts.
Some of my most precious memories from my childhood are awaking in a soft feather bed long before daylight to the smell of the biscuts baking and Gran softly humming some old hymn as she went about her work.I would often drift back off to sleep to be awakened by her gentle touch to tell me it was time to get up.....breakfast was ready.
After I grew up I was blessed to have her around for several more years......and many was the morning that would find me sitting at her kitchen table long before daylight sipping coffee and telling her of my hopes, dreams, fears and problems as she scurried about her kitchen preparing breakfast. She was a wonderful listener and I always felt better about anything after a morning visit with her.
There came a time when life took me far away from her little kitchen and I sometimes didn't see her or talk to her for months at a time....I guess I took her for granted and assumed she would always be there..... but even then....if I had a problem or if I would walk into a diner and catch the smell of baking bread....I would remember and call her or sometimes make the drive to see her.
One day in 1987 - August 9th to be exact I got the call. Gran was slipping fast....drifting in and out of consciousness and her earthly days were quickly coming to a end...and she had asked for me. I was living 500 miles away from her but I dropped everything and drove like a mad man to get to her side. As I looked down at her small frail body lying in the hospital bed....she stirred and looked up at me and gave me a big smile that brightened her whole face as she gently took my hand.Not long later she again smiled and whispered "Thank you Jesus" and entered eternity. These were her last words.
I have done much with my life -some good, some not so good and traveled far from Grans little kitchen. But there are times when no matter how far away I am I am instantly taken back....if only in my memory. It could be a old hymn heard on a radio station in the wee hours of the morning, the crowing of a rooster, or the smell of baking biscuts.....homemade of course.
Early this morning I was to meet some folks for breakfast at a local restaurant. I got there a little early only minutes after they opened. When I entered the first thing I noticed was the most wonderful smell of biscuts baking.....I instantly was reminded of my grandmother and was soon lost in thoughts of her as I sipped my coffee and my mind drifted back to about 45 years ago......
My grandparents place was a short walk across a corn field from ours when I was a boy.I spent many days and nights with them. She was a small, spry, little woman of Scottish descent who had a kind word and smile for anyone and a heart over flowing with love for her fellow man and especially for her family. She could also be as fearless and protective as a mother bear if she thought someone was being mistreated. She was a Christian lady who didn't just talk the talk-she also walked the walk....and taught me much by word and example......even though some of the lessons didn't take until long after her death.
I never remember her not working and staying busy -cooking, cleaning, gardening,canning-I don't remember a idle moment during her waking hours. And boy was she a cook! She arose every morning long before the sun and prepared a huge breakfast. There was always eggs (from her own hens) bacon or ham (from her own smokehouse) and ALWAYS made from scratch homemade biscuts.
Some of my most precious memories from my childhood are awaking in a soft feather bed long before daylight to the smell of the biscuts baking and Gran softly humming some old hymn as she went about her work.I would often drift back off to sleep to be awakened by her gentle touch to tell me it was time to get up.....breakfast was ready.
After I grew up I was blessed to have her around for several more years......and many was the morning that would find me sitting at her kitchen table long before daylight sipping coffee and telling her of my hopes, dreams, fears and problems as she scurried about her kitchen preparing breakfast. She was a wonderful listener and I always felt better about anything after a morning visit with her.
There came a time when life took me far away from her little kitchen and I sometimes didn't see her or talk to her for months at a time....I guess I took her for granted and assumed she would always be there..... but even then....if I had a problem or if I would walk into a diner and catch the smell of baking bread....I would remember and call her or sometimes make the drive to see her.
One day in 1987 - August 9th to be exact I got the call. Gran was slipping fast....drifting in and out of consciousness and her earthly days were quickly coming to a end...and she had asked for me. I was living 500 miles away from her but I dropped everything and drove like a mad man to get to her side. As I looked down at her small frail body lying in the hospital bed....she stirred and looked up at me and gave me a big smile that brightened her whole face as she gently took my hand.Not long later she again smiled and whispered "Thank you Jesus" and entered eternity. These were her last words.
I have done much with my life -some good, some not so good and traveled far from Grans little kitchen. But there are times when no matter how far away I am I am instantly taken back....if only in my memory. It could be a old hymn heard on a radio station in the wee hours of the morning, the crowing of a rooster, or the smell of baking biscuts.....homemade of course.
