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Gran'ma Craved Excitement
Back before World War II, things were quite different. Days were pretty
much the same year in and year out. Getting the work done on a farm
required most of the hours in a day. Attending church services and going
to town for supplies or to see a picture show were about the only forms
of entertainment.
My Uncle Dion, who was blind, owned the
Jot-Em-Down store on the Delta-Hunt county line. He hired Lester
Covington to help in the store. Lester was a widower with two sons, L.
C. and Cloyd. Lester's mother, called "Gran'ma," visited at irregular
intervals.
Gran'ma was a feisty little woman, about five feet
tall and weighing less than 100 pounds. She wore her gray hair in a bun.
Her dresses were shirtwaist style, floor-length, long-sleeved, made of
somber-colored cotton cloth. Gran'ma did anything that needed to be done
while she was there. An avid Bible reader, she was always ready to
enlighten others with her knowledge and beliefs. However, I noticed that
she never stayed more than six weeks, then she would go to visit another
of her five children. I wondered why she didn't move in with Lester.
L.C. and I became engaged on my sixteenth birthday in October 1941. We planned
to marry when I graduated in June 1942, but on December 7, 1941, Pearl
Harbor was bombed. L. C. was nineteen and would have to join the armed
forces, so we changed our plans. We married on December 20.
It
was then that I began to see why Gran'ma didn't stay long at any of her
children's homes. She kept things stirred up wherever she was. When she
began to get bored with where she was, she would move on to another
place--and start "stirring up" all over again. She was at her happiest
when something exciting was happening.
One of her happiest
moments was on February 16, 1944, when my first child was born. Rain had
been falling for several days, and roads were muddy. We were staying
with my parents until the baby's birth. L. C. and Dad had been to
Ladonia on the tractor, since a car could not get through. They had just
arrived home for lunch when my labor began. L. C. drove the tractor to
his father's to phone the doctor. Gran'ma was there since she wanted to
be present at the birth. L.C. came back pulling their car--with Lester
and Gran'ma in it. Then L.C. drove the tractor to meet the doctor and
bring him to the house.
By the time the doctor arrived, Gran'ma
had already taken control of the situation. She declared that the
"birthing bed" should be moved to a more convenient location. She
ordered Dad to draw many buckets of water from the well, which Gran'ma
and Mom began heating in large kettles. Old clean sheets were made
available, and I was "prepped" for the birth. Gran'ma took her place
right by the doctor so she could advise him as the delivery progressed.
He would very nicely--but firmly--countermand her orders.
About
four o'clock, Gran'ma became very excited and yelled, "You've got to
push harder! It's GOT to come NOW!" The doctor calmly said, "No, just
take it easy. The baby will come in its own good time. Don't try to rush
her." When the baby was born at five o'clock, Gran'ma said excitedly,
"Oh, it's a girl! What are you going to name her?"
L.C.
was sent to dispose of the afterbirth, and Mom, Gran'ma, and the doctor
took Sharron Ann into the kitchen to bathe and dress her. Gran'ma came
quietly into the bedroom, took my hand, and said, "Honey, she's a
beautiful baby. Too bad she ain't going to live." Shocked, I asked,
"What do you mean, 'She's not going to live'?" And Gran'ma solemnly
answered, "She's a blue baby. Won't live through the night. That's why
they ain't brought her in to you yet. They don't want you to get
attached to her when she ain't going to live. They won't tell you that,
but I thought you ought to know."
Horrified, I called for
the doctor. My tone of voice brought him quickly. He asked what I
wanted, and I said, "I want my baby." He answered, "Well, they will
bring her to you soon. They are bathing and dressing her. She's a fine,
nine-pound girl." My tone of voice became more urgent as I told him, "I
want my baby, and I want her NOW! If you don't bring her to me, I'll get
out of this bed and go get her myself!" He immediately brought Sharron
to me. I held her closely to me and loved her because I thought this was
the only night I would have my baby girl.
Meanwhile, in the
kitchen, Mom had started making coffee. Gran'ma went to help her. Then
she told Mom, "Pretty baby. Too bad her mother won't live to raise her."
Mom said her hair stood on end as she asked, "What do you mean?" And
Gran'ma in her solemn voice answered, "Childbed fever. I've smelt it
many a time. She won't live a week." So Mom ran into the bedroom where
the doctor and I were, looking very upset. Her looks seemed to confirm
what Gran'ma had told me; my baby was not expected to live through the
night.
Sharron was several years old when Mom and I told each
other what had happened that day. We decided that Gran'ma wasn't being
mean, she just craved excitement! If none was happening, she made her
own.
Lowell McCormack
Gainesville, Texas
Published:
November 14,
2005
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