Grandma's House

When my Mom died in 2005, she left me my Grandma's farmhouse in San Benito, Texas.  That summer my Grandma and I spent a lot of time together through the death of her husband Newt in July of 2005 and until her death in August of 2008.  During that time, I wrote her story and published it in a the picture book above on mpix.com.   

When Newt died I remember her saying something that was extremely meaningful for people my age (50).  She said, "Those forty years with Newt were the best years of my life!".  Really Grandma, I said, how old were you when you met him?  And she answered, I was fifty years old.  I remember thinking that it really put life into perspective! I wrote Grandma's story in her words.   

 

Here is the beginning of it. . . . . .I was born Mary Irene Guthrie on September 11, 1915 in Rockdale, Texas. My daddy always wanted me to take up music. He started me out singing and he would play the guitar. My cousin Dolie always told people at her beauty shop about Mary entertaining them when we were little. My daddy always thought that I was gonna be a movie star or somethin. Anyway the Guthries were quite musical and they would go to square dancin. Grandpa Jones would call me his big eyed turkey. I had convulsions and my eyes crossed when I was little. I was slightly paralyzed on one side. Momma tied my arm on one side to make me use my bad one. My Daddy had big eyes too. I had weak eyes like my Momma. Grandpa Jones died young. Down in the swamps he got some kind of fever. He got it after going fishing down in the swamps. It was yellow fever. 

We lived down below the Black Jack Cemetery. That cemetery is 12 miles NW of Caldwell on SH 21 W then FM 908 NW. Black Jack Baptist Church is on CR 301, 0.1 miles E. of FM 908. I’d walk up to Grandma’s house past a black oak tree. I remember my mother sunning our mattresses and a big old black snake coming up and waggin its tail. Momma and Aunt Evie (Dolie’s mom) would go out and pick blackberries.  They put a pallet down and put us down on it.  Grandpa Guthrie had a dog named Keiser.  That old dog watched the kids.  They came back from pickin their blackberries and Keiser had killed a rattlesnake.  It was timber country.   I went on to do a lot of research on Grandma's family and found information on the internet that she and Newt had driven hundreds of miles searching for.   I wish she was still alive so that I could share it with her.