It’s Halloween, and you just ran out of candy. If the neighborhood kids (or anyone else, really) were to truly scare you, what trick would they have to subject you to?
The kids in my neighborhood know me as Granny Terry. This is where they come when they arrive home after school to a locked door. If they are hungry and they want more than a couple of carrot sticks they run to Granny Terry’s house.
I have lived in my little home since my husband, Dale and I got married. It was just two years ago that Dale got the big one. That man had a major heart attack, the doctors from the big hospital said.
I sat by Dale every day while he was in the hospital bed and told him he would be coming home soon. The doctors just needed to get him stronger. I didn’t mean to do it, but I guess I just don’t know it all at my young 85 years of age. That darn old Dale up and died.
He left me to tend to everything. The funeral, and the bills that kept rolling in. I almost felt overwhelmed and often felt too tired to fix a bite to eat. Just when those days arrived, I would get a knock at my back door and there would be Tommy or little Pammy or some other sweetheart in the neighborhood.
In their little arms would be casseroles, or baked cookies and sometimes a nice chocolate cake. The kids told me , ” Mommy made this and told me to run it over to you Granny Terry. We got to get back home now”. Those darlins would wave as they turned and ran for their homes.
I was a blessed Granny. Even though Dale went and left me, I seemed to adopt quite a few youngins from around here. Seems like I don’t have too much time alone, which I believe is a blessing in disguise.
There was always someone here. They would sit on the front porch with me and rock. Or they would sit while I sat and watched the big box on legs and listen to people say silly things.
Many times during those prime commercials, one of those kids would hand me a beautiful picture they had colored for me. They helped me bake cookies. They tried to help me change my bed sheets. Sometimes Tommy would even help me hang the clothes on the line. I gotta tell you, I really appreciate that Tommy boy. That darn old arthritis gets in my shoulders and just when I raise my arms to hang those old sheets, oh the pain starts a settin in. That’s about the time that the good Lord seems to send Tommy my way.
My adopted kids know their Granny Terry well. If I ran out of candy, those little faces would just look up at me and say, ” Granny Terry, it’s ok you don’t have any candy to give us. Just give us some of those big candy bars you keep in your dresser drawer”.
I would look at them with a couple of tears in my eyes. I would ruffle their hair and open the door wider, letting them come in and find my so-called secret stash. You gotta love those youngins.