A Coffee Table Picture

 

Today, my cousin posted this picture on facebook.

 

With the picture, she wrote "Did anyone else's grandparents have this coffee table?  My grandma did (I think - or one similarly) and she decorated it with a stuffed alligator.  A real one ---like the taxidermy kind!! And as a kid I did not think that was weird."

 

This picture then began to generate lots of coments and exciting memories from my cousins, my sister and I.  I couldn't help myself.  Everytime my ipod whistled that a coment had been made, I quickly checked, anxious to see what memory had been drawn back up from the dusty corners of my mind.  It was all good.  Very good.  I hadn't reminisced with my cousins this way in a very long time.

 

Here are a few of our wonderfully funny, scarry and sweet memories:

 

     In my grandmother's bedroom there was a styrofoam head.  One of my cousins had taken the liberty to draw on the face; blood coming from the eyes and mouth,(I believe my memory serves me correctly.)  And the head wore a hat and was used at various times to scare the younger of the cousins.

 

     My little sister remembered the time our older sister and I convinced her that a gorilla lived in one of the bedroom closets.  Then we pushed her in there and shut the door. 

 

      There was an oval photograph of a female relative with a bubble frame.  Her eyes would follow you where ever you went!

 

     There is a story that all my older cousins know.  They call it the "Pickle Incident"!  One day, I might get to hear this story!  It sounds very interesting.

 

     One of my cousins remembered getting her finger slammed in the door of the truck...it was gashed open and grandpa poured salt on it!

 

     Another cousin remembered that my grandma had a dryer but was bent on hanging all the laundry out to dry.

 

     Some of the girls remember being in the pasture and being chased by grandpa's bull.  They thought they were going to die that day!

 

     My grandpa ran the car through the kitchen and pushed the double oven out of the wall.

 

     One of my cousins remembered the way the screen door sounded when it slammed and then hearing Grandpa say "Come in this house"

 

     The last thing remembered was the way Grandpa would stand out under the pecan tree and wave at you until you turned off their road.

 

My memories of my Grandparents are few.  My Grandmother had an aneurysm when I was four and my Grandpa passed in the early ninety's.  My Dad and my Aunt have worked hard to keep the family getting together; there is a family reunion every year, but the conversations always seem to be catch up from the last time we all saw each other.  The old stories are not often retold.

 

 These old stories, the ones that at the time sometimes seem insignificant, are the ones that in reality are the most important. 

 

It's important to remember, and sometimes we don't do it enough.  We all need to work harder at keeping the memories of our passed loved ones alive. I want to be able to tell Baby J about his Great Grandpa and Grandma Scott one day, but I can't do it without the help of my family.  Thanks everyone for sharing tonight.