Happy Birthday, Grams.

She was born January 21, 1896 in Butler, Kentucky as Carolyn Annette Kidwell. In the 28 years that I knew her she was always Grams, or Carrie.

The story goes that she despised Carolyn Annette with such passion that she would not even answer to it, not even as a child I suppose. She was Carrie, always. In those days I doubt you had to go through the red tape that you do now to change your name for even on her application for a Social Security number she listed her name as Carrie.

Carrie had 7 brothers and sisters, Walter, Charles, Ethel, Mabel, Hetty, Cora and Ralph. Her family must have been ahead of their time for Hetty and Cora never even married and that was virtually unheard of in the early 1900's in rural Kentucky. Girls got married at 16 or so and started producing new farm hands. But not Carrie.

My grandmother graduated high school in a class of 3 in approximately 1913. She went on to Browns Business School and also Normal University both in Illinois. She first took secretarial courses and then went on to be a teacher. She had to have been an amazing woman in that day and age to live the life she had chosen and be self sufficient. At times Carrie shared and apartment with girl friends and did house sitting with her sisters, it all sounds so normal for this day and age, but it wasn't then.

I am not sure when she married my grandfather, Jessie Warren Beamer Wright, "Warnie" but it was quite a bit later in her life as my mother, Dora, their only child was not born until my grandmother was 38 years old. To put that in perspective, my mom was 12 when my grandmother was the age I am now, and I am already a grandmother. Sort of boggles the mind to think of it that way.

Maybe it was because my grandmother was 64 years old when I came along, that I remember her being so grandmotherly. She was a short thing, always had gray hair and I don't think I ever saw her wear slacks until she was in her eighties. She shared a Victorian house with my grandfather in Southgate, Kentucky that had been given to them by his family. My mother was born in that house. I remember it always smelling of antiques and cookies and my grandfathers cigarettes. The place seemed huge and when my brother and I were able to visit we ran in one door and out another screaming and playing and leaving a trail of toys and crumbs behind us, and it was OK. There was never a harsh word uttered.

I don't remember ever living in that house until about 1967. My father was in the Navy so we moved often and it must have just killed my grand parents to have us all be so far away. I remember many many visits, but it wasn't until my fathers first extended sea duty that my mom, brother and I actually moved in with my grandparents. We had full run of the house and the back yard which seemed enormous. We had a swing set, I got my first Yellow Jacket sting there. We had a fence between us and the neighbors that was covered in vines of some sort, and sweet peas. There was an alley that ran behind the houses and each had a garage. Their garage housed my grandparents 195? Dodge something. It was two tone green and the only car I ever knew them to have.

My grandparents had a color TV which was unheard of. My grandmother had won it on the "Ruth Lyons Show" and the neighbors were green with envy. I don't remember watching it though, I remember spending all of my time in Grams' dining room/sewing room. After her days of being a bookkeeper, she had become a seamstress and she could sew anything. People hired her to make them elegant dresses and spring colored coats for Easter. She of course made me adorable outfits and clothes galore for my Barbie dolls. I would sit on her lap as she sewed in her corner of the dining room and I know that's where I got my talent from as I too, can sew anything.

My mom, brother and I moved to Hawaii in 1968 where my father had become stationed. I can't imagine the pain that brought my grandparents. My grandfathers health declined and when it was obvious he had little time left, my mother, brother and I flew back to Kentucky to see him. He died the day after we arrived. Everyone said he just waited to know we were OK. It was my first experience with death. I was 8.

After my grandfathers affairs were settled we brought Grams to Hawaii with us. I remember a time or two being peeved that I had to share my room with her but mostly I remember life being better for her, and my mom as my dad was out to sea most of the time we lived there. When we left in 1972 Grams moved to Maine with us. Except for a short return to Illinois to stay with one of her sisters, and then living in senior citizens housing in New Hampshire for awhile, she remained living with us even when we all moved to Texas in 1984.

By 1984 though Grams was experiencing the hardship of Alzheimer disease. How sad it was to watch this woman who a few years earlier could have spoke Latin and recited "The Raven" (and many, many other poems and quotes and rhymes) reduced to days of not recognizing her only daughter. By 1985 I'd say, she was moved to a nursing home in Kerrville where she spent her remaining years.

During that time I lead the very busy life of a wife, full time employee, and by 1986, mother. I didn't go to the nursing home as often as I wish now. My mother did pick Grams up quite often though and bring her on outings with the family. Grams did meet Haley several times and for that I am forever thankful.

In 1989 shortly before Haley's third birthday we drove past the nursing home in a rush to be somewhere else and Haley pointed out the window and said "Grams". Thank God that I decided that what ever else we had to do could wait because I turned around and we went to visit Grams. By now she was bed ridden and her mind was completely incapacitated, but Haley didn't know that and we stayed and visited and he told her all of his wonderful accomplishments and adventures, and that was the last time we saw her alive. People tell me little kids just "know" - I think they do.

It was but a week or so later, I was dispatching at the Sheriff's Department wearing a hideous brown and khaki uniform when my father called and said that Grams had passed away. I immediately met my parents at the nursing home, Grams looked very peaceful, we said what we needed to say in private and then went to the funeral home to make arduous arrangements for sending my Grams back home, back to Kentucky.

I wanted so much to make the dress she was to be buried in. I wanted to give back to her some of the gift that she had given me. There wasn't time though. In a just over a day my parents left for Kentucky driving. I stayed behind a couple of days (due to work naturally) and then flew to Cincinnati where my parents picked me up.

Grams' funeral was in Grants Lick, Kentucky, a place that is, just as it sounds. Many many people came and after the funeral many of them hung around and shared stories of her life and what she had meant to them. The funeral lasted into the late evening with old family members and friends who may as well been family sitting around telling jokes and old hillbilly stories and remembering the best of the life that Carrie Kidwell Wright had lived. And yes she was present both physically, spiritually and watching over us with my grandfather, her beloved Warnie, who she had outlived for 21 years.

I think about Grams a lot now that I am a grandmother. I will never be that old fashioned cookie baking grandmotherly type like she was, but I do have most of her antiques and I do make Audrey clothes. Mostly I love my family unconditionally, like she did. I will teach Audrey to sew if she is interested, but I will never really fill my grandmothers shoes. At best, I can say that she lives on through the descendants that I have helped to create, and for that I am proud.

Love and miss you forever Grams.

http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GSln=wright&GSfn=carrie&GSmn=kidwell&GSbyrel=in&GSdyrel=in&GSob=n&GRid=10190223&df=all&