Sunday, April 1, 2012

A is for Alma Rose

Alma Rose was my father's mother.  My grandmother.  She had fourteen children on a Piney Woods cotton farm.  She passed away from complications of diabetes when I was around 7 or 8 years old.  I remember going once with Daddy to see her in a nursing home when she was nearing the end.  I can't clearly recall her funeral.

But!  I remember vividly getting out of the car at her little house in Livingston and being met by her coming towards me fast as she could with arms outstretched to wrap me in a huge hug.  I can't clearly picture her face.  Just a smile and grey hair.  But I can see the short sleeve shirtwaist dress with the flowered apron over her large bosom.  And I know it meant feeling loved and special. 

From those trips I also recall the smell and taste of chocolate pie served while it was still slightly warm.  My favorite places at her house was her front porch swing, her flowerbed full of roses, and her catfish pond.  Huge gold fish in a cement pond with green leaves growing beside it and hanging over into it.  And a little statue of a black boy beside it.  I was always intrigued by him, watching over those goldfish and part of me felt sad he had to stay there all alone.

Once, when a large number of us were at grandma's for some holiday gathering, me and too many of my cousins all got in the porch swing together and kept pushing and pushing till it went higher and higher and finally flipped over and split us out in her rose garden.  It wasn't pleasant and it was the only time I ever remember being in trouble at grandma's house.

Thanks for joining me!  And please take a moment to answer my poll in the sidebar if you haven't as of yet. 



  1. Thanks for sharing Alma Rose with us, Barbara. She sounds like a very wonderful grandmother; I'm sorry she wasn't around longer in your life for you to get to spend more time with her. I had to laugh about the swing story; isn't that so typical of kids to want to try something like that?


  2. You made me feel like I was there with you. Thank you for sharing your story, I remember sitting on my grandmas porch too and enjoying her flowers sometime in the 70's. Funny how our memories work.

  3. How lovely that you remember nice things about your grandma, and not her funeral or illness. Thank you for sharing.

  4. What a great story Barbara. It brings back memories of times with my grandmothers too. I'm still so glad you decided to join the challenge!

  5. Nice memories. I remember my garndma cooking on a wood stove and I remember Honeysuckle by her porch. Don't remember my Mama's Mama. Wish I could.

  6. I think you know these kind of family posts always hit the spot for me....


So glad you stopped by! Come 'round any time. ~ Barbara

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