The Southern Subtleties of Our Roots

Dear,  Henley June,

I’d like to share with you a story of my mother’s mother. She and my grandfather deserve a lot of credit for the person I am today. We all know her as Mema. I hope with all of my heart that you get the joy of meeting her.  Although, if you do not, this will in no way hinder the affect she will have on your life.

 I once read that, “Southern Mamas are known for being subtle, like a freight train.” (Shellie Rushing Tomlinson) This perfectly describes my Grandmother. Regardless of her emotion of the moment, everyone in the room was quickly made aware.  Like many women in our family, she is strong-willed and powerful. Like a mother hen, she would do anything to protect those under her wings and her wingspan was wide.

 I might be biased, but my Mema could be a model. She even has her height on her side-jealous. She is a blue-eyed brunet like me. She is the best person with whom to shop or travel.  This is because she has an uncanny ability to sweetly persuade anyone to give her what she wants. She recently bartered an antique auctioneer to give her a $600 oak table for $150. What a lovable con-artist she is. We are probably still eating at this table as you read this. Of ALL the gifts she gave me, I most appreciate her teachings of southern hospitality and spirituality. From cooking to her charming conversational skills or studying the Catholic saints and service projects, I would be nothing without my grandmother.

 Mema was raised on a dairy farm in Texas.  She felt at home in the church at an early age. Her family valued hard-work. They also valued keeping up appearances-even if this covered up the truth.  Her father had a temper and had an unhealthy relationship with the bottle. Her mother, Ola, was strong and extremely driven. After they divorced when Mema was a young adult, Ola returned to school in her thirties. She became one of the leading nurses at one of the state’s leading mental institutions.  

At the age of sixteen, Mema met her soon to be husband in High School. He was eighteen. He resembled Danny in the movie, Grease. His hair was slicked back like a duck’s behind. His socks and shirts always matched. His hot rod’s rearview mirror held a plethora of earrings from all of the girls he had dated. (I know, the fifties were an odd time.) Mema swept him off of his feet at prom as they danced to Elvis’ “Love me Tender”.

 Your great-grandmother was so anxious to start her own much happier family that the two decided to elope. They knew their families would not approve, so they headed north to Oklahoma.  To add to the excitement, Mema was too young to legally get married.  Since one had to be eighteen, the two were forced to bend the truth.

Mema insisted on having their marriage officiated by a clergyman. For some odd reason, the churches were closed on that hot August day. They looked and looked, and were beginning to lose hope. Finally, someone at the courthouse informed them the local mechanic was also an ordained clergyman. Off to the body shop they went. There, with grease-covered hands and car’s hanging high, the two teens were wed back in 1958.

They were able to keep their nuptials a secret for two weeks once they returned to Texas. One of Mema’s girlfriend’s told her own mother. And, you guessed it, this other mother called Ola. This upset Ola, but she soon came around. After all, she loved Pepa like he was one of her own. She insisted that that Mema finish school.

Mema not only finished school, but she went on to; climb the ladder in the realm of banking, raise three wonderful children, maintain a healthy marriage for fifty-five plus years, become a missionary for the United Methodist Church, travel the world, attend Seminary courses, and became a St. Benedictine Oblate. (This is basically a nun who can get married.)

Even if Mema and Pepa considered it an “idiotic move” to get married so young, I am sure glad they did. They needed each other.  Their adult lives together healed their individual scars of childhood. They helped each other on a life-long journey for peace. Peace with self,peace with others, and peace with God.  They shared this Peace of Christ with me and I look forward to sharing it with you.