Today I was washing the dishes when I came upon an old familiar friend. A colander.
I have a couple colanders in my kitchen, but this one is special. It is no ordinary colander. It belonged to my grandmother, Reba, whom I called Mema.
Mema passed away on April 1, 2009, but all of the beautiful memories I had with her remain fresh in my mind and heart. I can still hear her singing to Jesus as she did her yard work in the yard. I can see her cooking in the kitchen tasting things and calling for my Papa, “Sam! Come and make some sweet-tea.” I remember the touch of her silky fingertips that had no fingerprints. I remember the smell of Oil of Olay that surrounded her at night and the way she would curl up her front lip to give me a kiss.
My Mema poured so much love and encouragement into my life and she did it every chance she got; on long walks through the woods, while snuggling in her cabin during a rainstorm, while hunting Native American pottery shards in the wash down the hill, while cooking or baking together in her kitchen and while snappin’ beans on the porch swing.
As I held the colander in my hands, running the warm water over it, I remembered how she would prepare the beans by washing them in the colander, then taking a few paper towels and an empty bowl for the bean ends, we would go sit out on her porch swing, snap the ends off the beans and talk.
As I have grown older and developed more relationships, I have learned a very important thing… not too many people listen to me. There is only a handful, a beautiful handful, of people who have truly listened to me through the days of my life and my Mema, was one of them.
Not only did Mema listen to me, she couldn’t wait to hear what I had to say and wanted to know everything about my day. We could talk about anything, school, work, family matters, boys, vacations, I Love Lucy episodes, the latest book that she or I were reading, anything at all. But what we talked about the most was the love of Jesus.
While sitting on the front porch, the sounds of the steady creaking of the swing combined in a somewhat awkward rhythm with the snapping of the beans, Mema would pour the love of Jesus into my heart. “God has something special planned for your life, honey. Never forget that,” she would always say, “Jesus loves you so much and He is going to do great things with you. Always follow Him and you will find joy, peace, and wisdom for your life.”
I never grew tired of my talks with Mema and I cherished the moments I had. I remember as I grew older and would stop by for a visit, I loved it when I walked in the door to see she had a bag of beans ready for snapping and we would head out to the front porch.
We didn’t go out to dinner very often and she really hated shopping. I don’t have any memories of her taking me to movies or the library, amusement or public parks. We didn’t visit the zoo together or the art museum. I didn’t attend any professional sporting games with her or go to any concerts, no places like that. We did take many trips together, which were all amazing. We spent many an hour playing Yahtzee, Chinese Checkers, Scrabble and Triominos, and every Thanksgiving that she cooked, I made the time to get over to help her and she would teach me how to cook and bake–from scratch, of course.
I did have many a moment with my grandpa, Samuel Boone, whom I called Papa (Paw Paw), and those moments are for another blog. But when I think about some of my most precious memories with Mema, it was the simple things. The quiet things, like snapping beans on the porch swing that I remember the most. Moments that I will always hold dear to my heart, moments that no one can take away. Moments that impacted my life in a beautiful, loving way, forever and that I hope will give to my children and grandchildren.
I want to tell my readers–if there are any of you out there, let me encourage you to slow down and find contentment in the simple things of life with your loved ones. Make time in this fast-paced world to enjoy slower-paced things. The quiet things, without a phone in your hand or a tv turned on, where you can sit and take in some good old fashioned conversation. Take a walk in nature, play a board game, snap beans together and just talk. Connect. Because even though those things may not seem adventurous or exciting, they are the precious memories that will linger and can matter the most in a person’s life.
Angelique La Fon-Cox 