daughter of Donnie Cloud
Usually the Friday before the weekend begins; my uncle Roger picks me up and we set back to begin our four-hour journey. Once we arrive I am usually greeted by my two smiling grandparents who I haven't seen in a year and my dad and step mom who come down from Pennsylvania. My granny seems to have gotten wiser at her rip old age of 73 and my grandpa a little funnier at 74.
Saturday mornings are the same every year also. My step mom and I wake up before the sun does to take my papaw to the flea markets in Tennessee. "All the good stuff will be gone if we wait too long," he says. He insists we go there. "That's where the good ones are," he says, but we don't care, its only over the mountain. This year was no different. My papaw, who hides his money because he trusts his own hands more than he trusts the banks, promised my step mom a quilt this year.
When she found the thirty-five dollar quilt she wanted he had to make sure it was in top condition before he'd let any of his money go. Later on that day he slipped me thirty-five dollars as well. "You will probably win it back from me when we play poker tonight" I said. "Don't use it for that darling," he says in his southern drawl.
Usually I bring a friend down with me to experience real country living. But, this year I decided not to. I figured this would be the last year for my annual trip, with college and all, so I wanted to spend more time with my papaw and granny.
Sunday is the day for my uncle Roger and dads (Donnie) yearly golf outing; it's a time for them to bond and for me to spend some quality time with my grandparents. So, this year I went shopping all day with my granny. We went to Walmart, the store of all malls down there, and the local produce stand. Then we went out to eat at Wendys, there my granny shared countless stories of the way it used to be. She recalled to me the days when she was little;she was too poor to buy a hamburger like the one we were eating,so she had to eat pinto beans smashed between two pieces of bread or how my grandpa would hide a pack of cards under the table when he played poker with my dad and uncles so he would always win their money.
My granny has been taking care of my papaw for the last couple of years since he was diagnosed with Leukemia. This year was the first year I could actually see the toll it has taken on him physically. He isn't as strong anymore to take me fishing for minnows in the creekbed or hiking up to the old coalmines. I guess he figured while I was down there he should give me a memento to remember him by. When he handed me the funny wooden hillbilly figurine, I busted out with laughter. He told me the overalls on the man looked just like his and the big bottle sitting next to him was moonshine, just like the stuff my papow made many years ago. The carved detailed figure reminded me of him, this was definately something I would never forget.
Nothing will ever compare to the warmth I feel when I'm down there. The joy I get from hearing stories about when my papow slaved for hours in the dark mines, picking coal or about when my granny worked countless hours to support her four kids will compare to nothing. Labor Day by far is the day I look forward to most all year.