Chapter 11
New Beginnings in the Green Mountain State
Be the type of person you want to meet.
-Dale Partridge
In the summer of 1984, we moved in with my great grandmother. I was a train wreck of a 13-year-old. Going back and forth to live with The Monster had taken its toll. I knew even if my mother went back to him again, Kimmie and I would stay with my great grandmother. We were old enough to have a say in what happened in our lives and after five times leaving The Monster, I felt justified in putting my foot down. I finally wasn’t afraid. I knew I didn’t have to pack a bag for us so we could run away. There was need to sleep with one eye open. Relief would be an understatement.
My Grammy
My great grandfather died when I was a baby, so I never met him. My great grandmother was fiercely dedicated to her deceased husband and never wanted to consider dating. It would go against the Bible somehow. We called her Grammy. She was a stern Christian woman who was very pious and regimented in her religious beliefs. She always wore a cotton dress with buttons down the front with a tied belt at the waist. Her hair was fairly short and curly. She never went without a perm. She had once been a hairdresser and always wanted to give us a perm too. Some of us (me included!) had fallen prey to her request. As a result, we ended up with hair that resembled someone who had recently gone through some type of electrocution process.
After putting our belongings in storage, we arrived at her three bedroom home in Barre, Vermont. Kimmie and I shared a room with two twin beds, while my mother took the other room. Grammy’s home was always warm and welcoming. It was simple, but met all of her needs. A gray, mottled Formica dining room table with four chairs was a common gathering place. In the living room sat a stereo, TV, couch, rocking chair, and her little black desk where she’d sit and write letters. Grammy wrote to all her friends and family and had a strict rule about how you should write letters, even instead of picking up the phone and calling someone. She was ecstatic when she received a letter, too. Everything in her home had a place. It was neat, clean, and orderly. The kitchen and dining room sat adjacent to each other, which allowed us to sit and eat meals together.
There was a big yard and a garden on the hill behind the house. Grammy spent a lot of time tending to her garden and flowers. She loved it and I learned to love it with her. I did not learn to love or even like collard greens or beets, despite her attempts to make me. She would tell us it was our duty to eat the things the Lord put on this earth, even if we didn’t like them. She wasn’t a great cook, although she was better than my mother. She was a stick in the mud in my teenage mind, but I also enjoyed spending time with her. I felt loved and close to her.
Don’t Be a Sloth
Grammy did not allow naps. She thought they were wasteful. One day after painting my fingernails 80’s hot pink, I lay on my bed and crossed my fingers with my hands on my chest, so they could dry properly, of course. I fell asleep. Grammy peeked in the room. Thinking I was praying, she was overwhelmed with joy and left me alone. That’s how I learned how to get away with taking a nap. Kimmie was less than impressed that I was getting away with naps, but she lost out by not painting her fingernails hot pink, too.
That Was a Shocker
Grammy, as pious as she was, swore. I was stunned. The first time I heard her I was in disbelief. She was standing on a dining room chair by the kitchen sink rehanging the curtains after they had been washed. She was struggling with them, muttering under her breath, and finally said, “Shit!” It was one of the most shocking moments for me. And one of the best. Grammy swore. I swore like a trucker and had to keep it on the down low around her. Since the incident at summer camp when I was told it wasn’t ladylike to swear, I had been trying to be a little more refined. If she swore, with all her godliness, maybe there was hope for me.
We went to Grammy’s church. It was a Baptist church in town and one of our ancient ancestors helped build it. It was similar to the Methodist church we had been raised going to and I liked it. It was a large brick building downtown. The double front doors up the stone steps looked enormous. Through the front doors were an entryway and stairs going down to the basement. The pastor’s office was to the right, as were the areas for the choir to change into their robes. Straight ahead was the chapel. Large wooden benches covered in burgundy cushioned upholstery went in neat lines, creating aisles to the front of the room and the pulpit. I loved the deep, rich burgundy color theme in the church and the stained glass windows. Mostly I liked how proud my Grammy was to have us there.
Becoming A Warrior Princess
I have great memories of Grammy. She died in June of 2004. I was in the process of coming to see her in July to finish a book I was writing about her life. I finished the book for our family, complete with photos and memories, with a lot of help from my grandmother. When Grammy died, I inherited her little black desk–the one I watched her write letters at. The entire family was there when she died, and it was a beautiful way to bring us all close together. My sister, Kimmie, was fond of Grammy’s hands and we have a picture of them holding hands right before she died.
I wasn’t the easiest teenager to have around, but I also know I wasn’t the toughest. Although I was relieved to be living at Grammy’s home (I felt safe!),I had some angst about living in Vermont. I learned some pretty great lessons about life living there, though. Lessons such as “Slow down” and “Have faith.” Lessons like that would serve me well as the years went by.
Triumph with Love
Over time, I learned to slow down and relax more. Grammy rekindled my faith, even though we didn’t see eye to eye religiously. I knew she’d be there for me. Creating the book about her life payed homage to the woman she was and the impact she made on my life.
LEARN AND GROW
• You’re never alone.
• Whether it’s a Higher Power or people that love you, you are never alone