by Bonny Flesher
Every painting or drawing I tackle has meaning to me. I have my own personal family portfolio with many family members. I’d like to think I have captured their faces and character for future generations. Maybe they will remember a story passed down through the years.
Meet my current project, my Grandma Willie, my dad’s mother.
Grandma lost her parents at the age of 3 in a car accident. She was sent to live with family members. The scars I saw on her back were a testament to her childhood, working in the fields and not being sent to school.
She married my grandfather at the age of 13. By the time she was 15, she had the first of her 10 children. She had lost a set of twins just a few days after birth.
But Grandma was one of the most positive people I know. She memorized recipes from someone reading them to her. I can still see her at the stove frying chicken in her cast iron skillet. I remember my parents talking about her taking in ironing. The ministers would bring their church shirts to be starched.
Grandma came to live with my parents the last 3 years of her life. Even though I was grown and out of the house, I felt like she was my partner in crime! I wish I could tell her about her Indian heritage! My 6th great-grandmother on her side was named Betsy Silk Feathers. We know her family members came through on the Trail of Tears.
Grandma Willie passed away July 28, 1984. The last photograph I have is of her holding my 5-week-old son, wrapped in a handmade quilt she had made. I often took her quilting projects when visiting. I’m fortunate to have one of those homemade quilts. I cherish the stain from her dribbling snuff while she worked on it. She marked my quilt!
After Grandma passed away, a neighbor made me a Grandma Willie doll using the lid from her snuff jar for a hat. The lace and material were scraps from her sewing stash! My doll has a place of honor in her leopard chair as a quiet reminder of the many sacrifices and shoulders I stand on to this day!
Grandma loved her people, and even though life wasn’t easy, she always found something positive in the world. I knew she loved me, and I adored her.
I remember going to her house and having the best cheese you ever had. I didn’t know the word “commodities” or what that meant. And oh, those home-canned goods, from green beans to the best canned pickles. She would always send a few jars home with us. I don’t like store-bought green beans to this day! I was spoiled on Grandma’s!
There was always a pot of brown beans and cornbread on the menu. She had a way of making everything taste so good.
If I had 5 more minutes to talk to her, I’m not sure where I’d start.
I continue working on the painting of her, all the while cherishing the memories I have of her. The ladies I paint with giggle when I sit down to paint because I always say, “Hi, Grandma!”
If you don’t hear anything I have written, hear this: Hug your loved ones and cherish the simple things! One day they will be your gift!
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