Today’s guest post (poem) was written by Trevis Hicks in honor of his Granny Hicks.
Times Cherished written by Trevis Hicks
I still smell the eggs frying in the pan,
I hear the clock as it strikes seven AM,
I see the red cardinals eating from the feeder.
Everything is still as the pair of black irons
Sitting near the heater.
As the fog burns away I can see the outline of
The square bails of hay lying in the field,
Waiting to be packed away in the barn.
I follow her down the hill to the mailbox, then
Across the road to gather the eggs, then back to
The house to watch her churn the milk.
I watch her pick up her needle and thread and
Watch in amazement as she turns scraps of
Cloth into a wondrous work of art. She works
For hours with the skill of a pro and never
Misses a stitch while she repositions her hold.
She stops to rest and fix me lunch and I stare in
Amazement as the burner heats up.
The smell of the walnuts from the fresh baked
Cake and the sounds of the utensils clanking in
The sink, are the signs that I‘m at Granny‘s house.
As the house gets hot, Granny and I go down
The steps to the basement to do the wash.
I can‘t wait to see her bottles of all different
Shapes and just start to wonder what they contained.
No matter the chore, no matter the task,
She handles it with ease without a complaint.
I miss the times when I was small but,
The one thing that still remains are the memories
With Granny and all of her trades. And a
Basket full of memories that I will always Cherish.
Thank you, Granny, for all that
You‘ve done, to help mold me and teach me the
Way things are done.
———————
Hope you enjoyed Trevis’s memories of Granny Hicks as much as I did. Got memories of your Granny-Mamaw-Grandmother? Please leave a comment I’d love to hear about them.
Be sure to drop back by tomorrow for a Mother’s Day Post about Granny.
Tipper
Such sweet memories!!
Brought back memories of my grandmothers and my great-grandmothers, now long gone but leaving gentle love and great lessons behind them.
God bless.
RB
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That poem by Mr. Hicks and the memories of his Granny was great. It got me to thinking of my Granny. There is an endless number of memories that I have of my own. Of all the memories that come to mind, one is still fresh in my mind. I rermember those warm summer nights, July flies starting up at dusk, sitting on the end of the sofa working on a little bowl of nanner puddin’, watching black and white television at Granny’s house and Rev. Billy Graham’s crusade on channel 2, Cliff Barrows and that great “Radio voice” of his, George Beverly Shea singing “How Great Thou art”, If we were lucky, sometimes Ms Ethel Waters would be there and sing “His eye is own the sparrow”. Granny would be tolerant of a lot of rough housing by us kids but, we knew it was in our best interest to knock -it-off when the program began. I can still hear her singing along in that soprano voice when they sang the invitational hymn “Just as I am”.
Yes, Mr Hicks you sure got me to thinking with his poem.
Tipper,
Travis did a nice job on that poem. Kind of a reflection of
about all our mom’s…Ken
What a great tribute to a grandmother! I really enjoyed the memories shared with your audience.
Trevis-A cousin of mine Farris Loretta Breedlove was married to Harley Robert Hicks. They are buried at Fires Creek. It sure would be a pleasure to discover that I am related to your Granny and you in some way.
This story had me teary eyed. My Grandma and her daughter (my most beloved Aunt) were very much like Mr. Travis’ Granny. Always busy, but they always had time for their family. Grandma stoking the fire in the old wood stove at the old log vacation cabin in the early morning. Aunty making meals in her suburban kitchen, dabbing her little pinky in to taste if the seasonings were right. Both women sewing, knitting or doing crafts in their “down” time. They had no idea what wonderful memories they gave me or how much I wish I could be like them.
I have so many wonderful memories of my favorite grandmother. I was the first granddaughter after 16 grandsons and she spoiled me rotten. Perhaps my best memories were of her peeking from the kitchen and silently signalling me. That meant I should go out the front door and walk around to the back porch. Granny would be waiting there for me with a slice of cake and glass of milk. She died when I was ten and I still miss her.
Thank you Tipper and Trevis for the beautiful poem and memories..Tell Trevis he’s a great poet..love it..
Thank you Trevis for sharing your beautiful and loving tribute!
My grandmas, though both miner’s daughters, were different as night and day.
I adored them both; outspoken, independent flapper grandma and home-loving, nurturing grandma.
I learned so much about life observing these two great ladies, and I still catch a glimpse of them now and again when I look in the mirror or spend time with my children and grandchildren; the line of a cheekbone, eyes a certain shade of blue, the rhythm of a laugh, a determined stubborness.
A grandmother’s legacy reaches through the generations, blessing and enriching us all.
Thanks for sharing that poem. Brings back memories of spending time with my Grandma Peevy,whether it was rocking on the front porch or eating her big ole biscuits. Times that were simple and peaceful.
Dear Mr. Trevis: I learned way back that folks in the Elf community were mighty fine people. When I was in the seventh grade at Hayesville, we had to ride the bus and have ‘school’ at Elf because there was no room for us at Hayesville Elementary. I had classmates names Hicks and I’ll bet they are your relatives! Thanks for a wonderful reminder of how precious memories stay with us!
Eva Nell Mull, Author
“The Matheson Cove – In the Shadow of the Devil’s Post Office”
Tipper,
and Trevis…wonderful memories to save for another generation…
So many of your recollections remind me of days spent at my Grandmothers’ homes…
One Grandmother was very, very, very old, (as my own Grandchild would say), when I was a child…
Or at least it seemed that way to me…When we went in, she rarely got up. She stayed in her rockin’ chair waiting for us to come in and give her a kiss on the cheek…(Not a high five. LOL)
When I was little I dodged one side of her cheek as sometimes the snuff stain would be on one side…LOL..She would wipe her lips with a big flowered hankerchief..before the kiss sometimes…She had white hair pulled back in a knot behind her head…A fairly long dress on with an apron with big pockets in it to hold, her snuff pouch, her beech dip brush, and a piece or two of hard candy, usually horehound..unwrapped…LOL
I can still hear her say,
“Welllll, Bevleee…Never howdy or hi or my goodness glad you’re here…just “Wellll, Bevleee..LOL
I would love to hear that again and I would have so many thing to ask her about…that didn’t seem important at the time…I just wanted to get outside to see all the cats and kittens, and other animals on the farm…LOL
Thanks for the memory,
my grandmother was not your average granny. we called her Gonnie since that is what i called her. she was married in 1923 in a flapper dress if that tells you anything. i loved her to pieces and only saw her twice a year. in my memory she is sitting at the dining room table with one leg up and her elbow on that knee, she has a cigarette in one hand and a coke in the other. she was addicted to smoking and drinking cokes. she wore red shoes every where but work. no sweet litle old granny like Paul is singing about,now that i am grown i know why i loved her because she was ME… but i don’t smoke or drink cokes. free spirit she was.
My mind goes back to my mom as we near Mothers Day. We all have many memories of our grandmas and parents. I, too, write them down so I don’t forget and so my children don’t forget. They may be gone but they are not forgotten, they live on in our hearts forever and in our words we put down on paper.
I have wonderful memories of my grandmother McLain, especially on the farm in Sylva, NC until my grandfather’s death in 1954. The huge wood burning cookstove in the kitchen and the delicious yeast rolls that were produced in it, the delicious fried chicken and visions of Grandmother in the morning chasing down that day’s victim in the chicken yard.
She was born on the 4th of July in 1884 in the Elf Community near Hayesville, NC and lived to be 94. What would I give to have a face-to-face conversation with her now. So many questions! Maybe I can have that conversation when I leave this life.
My Grandmother lived next to us and not that she could take the place of my Mother, she was always looking out after me and I thought of her as a Mother instead of a Grandmother, this poem depicts my Grandmother as well, I’m knocking on the door of 50 and can still remember her as if it were yesterday, I can still see her quilting bee set up in the trailer she lived in, I remember the bonnet she wore when she’d work the garden, see her setting out under the trees to let her long hair dry after she had washed it, she wore it in a ball on back of her head always, she always wore dresses never jeans or pants, didn’t even own a pair. Her cooking, the way she’d talk, her harmonica playing, her juice harp, her rose garden, her love for pretty fabric, her love for the Church best of all, got plans of seeing her one day, looking forward to it. This brought back a lot of good memories that I could spend the rest of today typing. Enjoyed it ….
My Granny I knew and loved was Sarah Evaline Souther Dyer (1857-1959), my faher’s mother. My other Granny, Georgianne Hunter Collins, my mother’s mother, had died four years before I was born, so I never knew her except through what my mother told me about her. But Granny Sarah was well-loved and respected in our community. She had been a mid-wife and “herbal doctor” but by the time I knew her she had laid aside her “doctor’s bag.” She was alert, read the daily paper, to keep up with world events, and liked to tell us grandchildren stories of what she remembered about “olden times.” Among these were stories of the Civil War (she was a child during those turbulent times in the mountains) and knowing some of the Indians that remained behind and with whom her family was acquainted and purchased their woven baskets. She raised a large family of fifteen children, and they all “rose up and called her blessed.” Our current large Dyer-Souther Heritage Association holds an annual reunion with hundreds who come from “all over” to honor this stalwart lady of the mountains. In the last quarter century of her life she had held court to many visitors and family members who loved her and went to hear her wisdom, advice and stories. She lived to be nearly 102 years of age and during the last 39 or more years of her life she held court from her little cane-bottomed chair in her special corner of the 1850 house her father had built and which is still standing as a monument to family solidarity and honor to a great lady. I’m glad I knew and loved this grandmother who influenced me greatly and taught me family values and the importance of making goals and working to acheive them.
What a beautiful tribute to his granny! Thanks for sharing Trevis’ poem with us this morning.
Happy Mother’s day Tipper!
Travis, that is beautiful, and brings back memories of my own grandmother. Thank you.
Oh….I could write a book about my grandmothers and grandfathers ….the best. I miss them so so so. Just said to Dan two days ago, “I miss them so much!!!” (It was kind of a pity party day for me, myself and I kind of day. LOL)
GREAT POST!! Enjoyed it thoroughly!!