Thinking of my mother, Odelle McFadden Gray
As Mother's Day approaches, my thoughts turn to my mother. The writer of Proverbs declares, An excellent wife, who can find, for her worth is far above jewels. The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain. I need not delve far into the depths of my memory to say assuredly: my father found her! A beautiful treasure clothed in layers of goodness that were continually unwrapped as she faithfully and lovingly showered unconditional love to her husband and her children. To touch on Elizabeth Barrett Browning's question, with certain liberties, I ask about my mother: dare I try to count the ways I love her? A feeble attempt will be made, since one of my greatest pleasures is reflecting on my mother and the rich heritage I have because of her.
Thanks for sharing with me the lasting memories of my mother. If you are blessed to have your Mother still with you, take time to let her know you love her; if not, then pause to thank God for precious memories.
DISCLAIMER: I composed this, using a wireless card on our laptop in the RV, away from my home computer, and the fonts are having a mind of their own! My apologies for any difficulty in reading.
- I'm told I was very tiny at birth (I snapped out of it, obviously!), a mere 4#, 4 oz., and that I fit snugly and quite comfortably into a shoe box! In my imagination I can visualize my mother tenderly lining my first "crib" with soft blankets and then gently placing my tiny body into my space. I can also feel her nearness to me. She loved deeply and nurtured each of her children. I was the last child, and after giving birth eight times it would seem she might have grown weary in well-doing; not my mother. Tragically, three of her children were either deceased at birth or died shortly afterward. Perhaps her sorrow intensified her deep love for her children.
- Mama and Daddy were very young when they married. She was only 15 and he, a few years older. Among my earliest memories of a loving mother's care are her sacrificial acts of love. Money was in short supply during those years. Everyone we knew - a rather small sphere during those years - was bound by the lasting effects of the Great Depression. Eking out a living was a common denominator. We never went hungry, but if anyone ever did in my family, it would have been Mama. She would often proclaim that the ribbed back portion of the chicken was her favorite part. Today her comment begs the question: was it really, or did she just want others at her table to have the meaty, choice pieces? This rather simplistic example illustrates her willingness and constant desire to place the needs of others before her own.
- Laboring to help my daddy with his crops seemed to come easily for Mama. Rising early to help with the tomato harvesting, I can still see her donning her sun bonnet, taking her place at the table where the tomatoes were sorted, wiped and placed into the wooden boxes - or lugs, as we called them, ready for delivery to the supermarkets in Henderson, Texas. Safeway was one of them that I remember. Only the very best would do: the right ripeness, without blemishes, stems removed, all carefully placed to fit just right. Daddy's crop was always one of the first to hit the stores and capture the highest price per pound. Mama was definitely in charge of the sorting and packing and I learned early on the value of offering the best - not culls - to the buyers. Waste was not a known quantity, back then, so the second quality tomatoes were offered for sale to others at a greatly reduced price, given away, or were canned for use in the winter months or for sure gobbled up right off the vine! The classic tomato sandwich (on white bread, of course) must have come into its own deep in the heart of East Texas. I'm also fairly certain it gained prominence in Louisiana and beyond!)
- One of the best memories of my mother centers around Christmas. Very early in December Mama would begin her baking, making her fruitcakes, applesauce cakes and Texas raisin pies! This was well before the days of plastic wraps and such. Waxed paper was around, though, so the baked goods were carefully wrapped in waxed paper, as I remember, but the final wrapping was a soft, white cotton dish towel, and then stored in the base of a brown cabinet, safely secured from anyone who might be tempted to taste the delicacies before they ripened and could be legitimately consumed!
- Daddy was a constable for as long as his health permitted, and I remember that he always got his January check early - December 24th. He and Mama would finish (or maybe even start) their Christmas shopping. I remember always receiving a doll, curly candy, chocolate drops, orange slices, mixed nuts, apples and oranges. All of these treats somehow magically appeared at Christmastime. Of course, there was always a gigantic peppermint, red and white striped, candy cane that stood as a sentinel over everything else! I can still see our stockings hanging from the mantel, bulging at appropriate intervals with apples and oranges. The stockings were usually my grandmother, Granny McFadden's, cotton stockings.
- Speaking of striped things, I can still see Granny McFadden's striped legs, all the way to her buttocks it seemed, tattooed as they appeared to me, from exposing herself in front of the fireplace. When one side was sufficiently warmed, she would turn around, hike her dress up, and subject the other side to the same intense heat. One had to do what one had to do to chase the chill from those bitterly cold East Texas winters!
- Back to the one day shopping spree, Mama would always spend the exact amount of money on each child at Christmas. She not only loved unconditionally, she loved impartially.
- Through the years Mama's love molded her children in many ways. If values are caught rather than taught, then we all caught a lot from her. She didn't always verbalize her feelings and was never preachy or pushy, but her values, hopes and dreams for her family were conveyed through her unwavering love, which fueled her actions. I wish you could have known my mama: Ruby Annie Eliza Odelle McFadden Gray - a truly virtuous woman who graced my life from December 3, 1936 until she entered Heaven's gates on May 24, 1973.
Thanks for sharing with me the lasting memories of my mother. If you are blessed to have your Mother still with you, take time to let her know you love her; if not, then pause to thank God for precious memories.
DISCLAIMER: I composed this, using a wireless card on our laptop in the RV, away from my home computer, and the fonts are having a mind of their own! My apologies for any difficulty in reading.
Mama Vee,
I loved reading about your mother. You certainly inherited all of her wonderfulness! I'm so glad to be your "adopted" daughter! Happy Mother's Day!
Love, Stacy
Reply to this
Velta,
That was so sweet! You such a gifted writer/storyteller. Mother's Day has always been so hard on me-my mother died when I was 3 and my father died when I was 23. He never remarried, so I didn't even have a step mother. I do however have a wonderful mother-in-law, Harriet Gardner. I hope you, Velta, have a great Mother's Day.
Reply to this
Odelle McFadden Gray is known to her grandchildren as "Granny Gray". I am truly blessed to call her such.
Having grown up in East Texas, I spent a lot of time with Granny Gray and Grandpa. Summers were especially fun. Swimming, fishing, digging for arrowheads, feeding the chickens, gathering eggs, playing in the shade of the fig bush and much, much more.
Granny Gray didn't seem to be afraid of anything. Once when gathering eggs, we found a large snake that had swallowed one of the ceramic eggs used to inspire the hens to lay. She killed the snake and together we carefully forced the ceramic egg out. She washed off the egg and back it went in the nesting box! Just another day on the farm.
Most of all, I remember her loving acceptance of her grandchildren. She didn't scold, punish, or raise her voice. She let us drink coffee (forbidden at home!) and eat lots of dessert! Amazingly, she didn't care if we tracked dirt in the house. SHE LOVED US and we loved her!
I miss her, and my mom greatly. The good news is I'll see them again!
Reply to this
How aptly you described your Mother. She was a precious jewel and I often wonder how she and my mother put up with you and me during our teenage years. When our mother's died it truly was the end of an era. Our mothers were our best friends and I miss mine today even tho she has been gone 15 yrs. To those of you who still have your mothers I say "Call your Mother, I wish I could call mine."
Reply to this
FOND MEMORIES OF GRANNY GRAY
As a great-grandchild of "Granny Gray" as my second cousin Judy has posted, one of my fondest memories of her was the day I took my first airplane ride.
I had been visiting my Aunt Velta and Uncle Bill in Kentwood, Louisiana, where I first learned to swim. I had asked to be left behind by my mother who had to return to Dallas. I always loved going there because to me, Aunt Velta and Uncle Bill's place was like Heaven on earth and I can even say that as I remember my Uncle Butch making my cousin Andy and I pick peas out of his garden and slop the hogs next door!
Prior to our departure from Kentwood, I remember how scared I was of getting on that plane. As we made our way up to the airport (I think in McComb, Mississippi) I can remember her comforting me, telling me that everything would be all right... "God will see us home" she said. For some reason has stuck in the back of my mind for my entire adult life and every single time I have had to take a plane ride, I call up to her and ask her to ride with me. She always does and God has always seen me home.
That first plane ride was somewhere around 1970 or so. I could not have been more than 9 or 10 years old... I am 44 now.
The last memories I have of our Granny Gray was where she lived when she departed from this world. If I remember correctly she resided in an cozy little apartment complex just off of Polk Street at the intersection of Polk and Marvin D Love Freeway in Oak Cliff (Dallas), Texas. I remember going to visit her some with my mother, and my grandmother, Mary Lou Gray (her oldest child), on weekends when I would sleep over.
I believe I had a distant relative married to "Aunt Katie", a Japanese lady, who also lived in the complex.
I can only imagine what it was like to have been a child of Granny Gray's, Aunt Velta, but one thing that I am sure of is that the love she passed out to you and your siblings is the same kind of love love that you have poured out for my mother, myself and my siblings throughout our lives... unconditional love and I so thank you for it.
With this posting I would like you to know that I think of you often as I always have. I so remember when you sang at my ordination ceremony in Charleston, South Carolina. That memory will forever be etched in my mind. I also would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your many, many, many prayers for me.
They have been answered, Aunt Velta.
I am one year clean and sober, I am living in my heart, and loving life once again.
I love you.
Bailey Wayne Sanders, Sr.
Royse City, Texas
PS Is "Derry McGee" the same "Dr. Derry" I remember from my childhood. Surely he's not the same man that I remember had a big chaw of tobacco in his mouth during church services in Kentwood all those years ago?!?
Reply to this