A couple of weeks ago, I posted 6 lessons I learned from my grandfather, the church planter. Now I would like to share some memories I have of my grandmother. For clarification, this post is about my maternal grandmother, Mabel Irene (Spivey) Knight. She died about 20 years ago. Most of these stories are funny, so I hope you enjoy. You may also learn to not take everything so seriously.
When we visited Grandpa and Grandma Knight in Arkansas, we always stayed for a few days. I distinctly remember on several occasions sitting on the floor watching television. Grandma would sit in the corner of the room in her recliner (Grandpa had his own, and as I remember they didn’t match). She usually had a glass of water in her hand, just sitting there rocking back and forth, then…SPLAT! She would spit water on me! No joke. It didn’t matter where I was in the room, she could hit me. And it seemed that ALL the water hit me. It didn’t trail off and land in the floor. For some reason, I think maybe she used to practice.
Also, when we were in bed, it was not uncommon to be woken by a ghost in her house. Of course, this ghost was always shaped just like her–white sheet, moaning like a ghost, and all. Again, we were asleep when she did this.
Once I went in the kitchen when she was cooking and asked if I could get some milk. She said yes, and watched me as I got a glass and the milk and poured it. I thought she was looking at me weird, but it wasn’t until I took a drink that I discovered why. It was buttermilk. To this day, I have never had another drink of buttermilk.
I also remember her making the best breakfast you would ever have with homemade biscuits, sausage, bacon, eggs, and gravy. Delicious.
And with it all, I remember her Bible. Nearly every page had multiple highlights and writings in the margin.
She loved us grandkids.
Well, those are some of my memories of her. So if you ever hear my mom telling me I got some Mabel in me, you’ll know what she’s talking about.