Grandma Vessa and Rachel by Laura McGrath Humphreys

This is a special request story from my dear sister Karen. When we were little girls and lived in Duncan, Arizona I, Laura and my little sister Karen used to spend a lot of time in a special house that is not there anymore.

While our parents, Raymond and Myrna worked at the Western Auto we got to go across the street to Grandma and Grandpa's. Now this house was big! And exciting! To get into the house one had to walk through the gate and between two huge evergreen trees. It was fun to play behind these two trees because there was a tall block fence in front so when you were behind the trees you were completely hidden. What fun it was.

The front yard was green and lush and there was a bush with little purple flowers lining the wall of the insurance office which was right next door. We ran around the yard and had family reunions there and all kinds of neat activities.

Inside the house the front room was long and had the neatest cowboy furniture. I remember some great family times in that front room. At the far end of the front room was a door that led into the kitchen. Eventually that door was walled up and you had to go through the dining room to get to the kitchen.

I love to remember Grandma in the kitchen. Grandma was a wonderful cook. I loved her fried chicken and mashed potatoes and white gravy. I really try to get my fried chicken to be like hers, but just can't quite get that crunchy layer. She made goodies like fried wheat treats and go-go bars.

There was a big table in the dining room and many a meal was eaten there with aunts and uncles and cousins all around. I remember spending days in that room when I had hepatitis as a 5 year old, lying in front of the window. That house even had all the amenities folks want in modern houses now, a bathroom in every bedroom!

Well, back to the kitchen. After each meal whomever had eaten was expected to help clear the table and wash and dry the dishes and put them away. Grandma always said, "Many hands make light work." She led the way and we all followed, gladly helping grandma. Well, mostly happily!

One of the best memories I have is Grandma herself. Sometimes she would have bobby pins or curlers in her hair. Always an apron. Whenever she was in the kitchen, you could hear her whistling just a little tune through her teeth. I don't remember the names of the tunes really, but just that she whistled. Inevitably Grandma had a dish towel slung over her shoulder so she could dry a dish, or wipe down the counter. It is etched deeply in my mind and memory.

I was told the other day by Karen that her daughter Rachel Nay Cheney does the very same thing! Stands at the kitchen sink with a dish towel slung over her shoulder whistling a little tune as she works. I know Rachel and Grandma never knew each other, in this life anyway, so I suspect Rachel learned this little trait from her own mother Karen, who learned it from her Grandma Vessa McGrath.

Families are a wonderful thing. Even without realizing we are doing it we pick up little traits and qualities from grandmas and grandpas and cousins and aunts and uncles that endear us to each other eternally. Maybe when we all get to Heaven Rachel and Grandma will know each other by the tunes they whistle!!

I remember every bit of that wonderful old house. There was a side porch just off the kitchen with a door which had a half window in it. There was a narrow passage between the house and the Boyd's lumber yard. There was a middle bedroom that had it's own bathroom. There was a little room/hall at the foot of the stairs. The stairs led up to another bedroom that I always thought of as a ship's bedroom because it had wood paneled walls and yes, it's own bathroom. I got locked in that bathroom once!

Down stairs there was a third bedroom where Grandma and Grandpa slept. They had to put up a portable screen so the bed would be blocked from all the traffic coming in and out of the back door. It had a very large bathroom where the freezer was kept and the washer. All in all it was a terrific house with terrific memories. Even though the house itself burned down and is gone, our memories of that special old place are not gone. We can always have them.