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Rodney Belcher
Member
since 2000-06-06
Posts 227
Taylor, Michigan

0 posted 2001-12-18 12:51 PM


     I woke before the sun came up most times. There was a crack of light coming from my mostly closed bedroom door. It was wide open all night but closed in the morning to allow me to sleep as long as possible. I would get up and sleepily make my way to the kitchen. The smell of frying eggs and bread toasting lured me to this destination. There would be my grandfather, usually done eating, sitting with my grandmother. I would get a friendly “good morning” from them as I sat there, observing their daily ritual. They would go over things that might need to be done on that particular day or just chitchatting before he left for work.

     He would stand and undo his pants, tuck in his shirt, and then redo his pants and fasten his belt. I remember that belt hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was thick, black and ominous hanging there on the hook. It was never used on me for discipline, but it was used as a threat several times. Pawpaw would put his jacket on and grab his lunch on the way to the backdoor. Just as he reached it he would turn and give Mawmaw a series of smooch-type kisses. Three. Always three. Smooch, smooch, smooch. Then they would say bye until 8 hours or so had passed.

     Then her attention would turn to me. Mawmaw would either fry me an egg or make me oatmeal for breakfast. She liked feeding me oatmeal, but it usually took a little more effort so I only saw it about every other breakfast but almost ALWAYS on weekend mornings. It was much easier to just fry up an egg in the pan that was still warm on the stove. The oatmeal, she claimed, was why I got to be so big of a man later on.

     Not that I cared too much about the oatmeal. In fact, I liked the eggs better. She would fry them over easy and leave the yolk intact. The whites were pristine…not a crumb or burn on them. I am a fairly decent cook myself, but I have never been able to emulate her expertise with a fried egg. She was an artist. I liked to take my toast and break open the yolk and savor its delicate flavor, with lots of pepper added as I got older. But, as good as the eggs were, the toast was my favorite.

     I really don’t know the reason why she made it this way, having never asked her while she was alive. At the time I didn’t really care…I just wanted to enjoy it. As I got older, I guess I let it slip from my mind, as the breakfasts at her house grew less and less frequent. My theory as to the “why” she did it that way is this: she probably didn’t have a toaster when she first got married and that was her only way of making toast for the family. She was always good at improvising. If nothing else she could adapt.

     What she did was simple, but simply delicious. She would toast the bread in the oven with the broiler. Before she would do that though, she would put a pat of butter on each corner and one in the middle. The effect would make it look like a “5” on the side of a dice - a crispy, golden brown 5 with sunshine-like yellow dots. It might not sound like much, but oh how I loved the taste of the butter, warm and melted, as I poked it out and ate it first. Then I would take the toasted remains and sop up my egg yolk with it. Although this was my preferred method of consuming this morning delicacy, it was equally delicious to dip into the oatmeal and absorb some of the “juice” that formed from milk, butter and sugar that she added to it.

     Then my morning would be filled with Porky Pig or Bozo the clown on TV for a few hours. She would usually clean the dishes while I vegged out in front of the tube. Once a week, Wednesday I think, I would have an added bonus to my day. The garbage man would be by to pick up the refuge from the week. I would run to the window to see the big “mouth” on the end of the truck gobble up the bags of garbage. It made lots of noise and I enjoyed it immensely. Most times Mawmaw would join me in observing the garbage disappear.

     Looking back, I guess she liked having me there to keep her company and fend off loneliness. I never felt like I was a burden. It was my second home and she saw to it that I got the attention I needed. We didn’t do anything all that exciting, especially by today’s standards. We just enjoyed one another and lived. I try hard to have the same quality time with my kids today. I feed them the oatmeal almost every morning. I want to test her theory on the “growth” thing. I just recently tried the toast thing and they loved it too. Although I cheat and use the microwave for the oatmeal (it still comes out delicious though…must be in the genes!), the oven toasted bread takes a few more seconds. But it is worth the added effort to keep a found memory of my childhood and a legacy of my grandmother, my Mawmaw, alive and living on into the next century.



Lets Love one another and let God do the worrying,
Rodney


[This message has been edited by Rodney Belcher (12-18-2001 10:46 PM).]

© Copyright 2001 Rodney Belcher - All Rights Reserved
Lady In White
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since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799
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1 posted 2001-12-18 05:09 PM



A quite enjoyable story.  I only have one nit, and that is where Pawpaw and Mawmaw say "goodbye for 8 hours."  If you read it over, I think you will see what I mean.

But I would treasure these memories...you made them come to life, and for that, sir, I thank you!

Rodney Belcher
Member
since 2000-06-06
Posts 227
Taylor, Michigan
2 posted 2001-12-18 10:47 PM


got it LIW...thanks...lol...Rod

Lets Love one another and let God do the worrying,
Rodney

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