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My grandmother was born on September 4, 1907.

Her name was Edith Doe Reed Scott. We called her “Mama Scott”

I found out as an adult she told me a “fib”.  She told me she didn’t have a middle name.  It was just the initial.  She hated her middle name.  That is so funny to me.

She never had a driver’s license.

The Early Years

She grew up during the depression so her meals were based on stretching them as far as she could.  She would cook the main meat (ie roast) then they would eat on it the rest of the week.

Her hamburger meat was stretched adding breadcrumbs.  Her eggs were stretched with water.  Every meal all her life was stretched.

The Family Years

She was always a housewife.

She had two sons James “Jimmy” and Carl. James was born in 1934.  Carl, my father was born in 1947.  Carl was a surprise.  She was thirty-nine in July when Carl was born and she turned forty that September.

Every Christmas she, her sister Alberta, her aunt “Sis” and her Mother would make Christmas food packages to send to family in Germany.  They made fruitcake.  Dad said they were door stoppers.

When Dad was young they had a house cleaner named Odell.  Odell is also an interesting person.  She was around a lot when my dad was growing up.  Odell enjoyed drinking homemade hooch.  One day she came to work drunk/tipsy and my grandfather was very upset.  He was a teetotaler.

Her husband died at 58 from a heart attack.  Her son, Jimmy died when he was 58,  Turning 58 was a scary year for my father.

The Grandchildren Years

I never heard her say anything bad about anybody, at least around me.  Her father-in-law was imprisoned for murder. She referred to him as a “mean man”.  That is putting it mildly.

I don’t remember this, but when I was a child, she’d ask me how many eggs I wanted.  I had no concept of numbers so I’d just name a random figure.  She would fix me however many I named. If I said five I’d get five.  If I said one, I’d get one.  Fun fact, I hate eggs now.  Can’t stand the smell or the taste.  I think I hit my cholesterol limit by the time I was eight.

She had to watch her “programs” every day.  The soap operas.  She and her sister would watch them every day. When we stayed with her, we weren’t allowed in the room when the programs were on.  I don’t know if they didn’t want us making noise or if they didn’t think children should be watching them. She let me watch “The Love Boat” and “Fantasy Island” with her, so I think it must have been the noise.  Can’t miss those plotlines.  Turn your head for a second and you may never find out why Jackie became the queen of the lost island in The Bermuda Triangle.

While she watched her programs in the afternoon, she drank a cold diet coke over ice.

She had always lived with at least one other person until she was in her eighties. She outlived everyone in her family, except for my father.

Living Alone

She and her sister had shared an apartment when her sister died, she moved to a retirement community.  She liked it there. They’d go on outings and had a hair salon.  She’d go get her nails painted, which was a special treat.

They also would play BINGO.  Now you had to buy the cards and you’d win cash if you won the BINGO card.  This was not a gambling mind-you.  She was not a gambler.  Sure, Mama Scott. It’s not gambling.

She was also convinced that she was going to win the Publisher’s Clearinghouse sweepstakes, so I’d get a gift subscription to some magazine.  My subscription to “Seventeen” expired when I was in my twenties and they called me to renew.  I said “I’m twenty-two. I don’t need to be reading seventeen”. The guy on the phone was telling me that I could read the articles about fashion and other things that weren’t age-related.  Needless to say, I did not renew.

She also always carried lemon drops in a tin.

My Dad has a pet peeve about women putting on lipstick at the table. My grandmother did this all of the time. Finished eating? Get out the mirror and the tube of lipstick. I do it now, just to bug him and to give her a nod. 

She always wore an apron when cooking.

She made jam cake. I have the recipe for that one. Made it for Dad as a Christmas present last year.

She died when on December 26, 1994.    I was twenty-two.  She didn’t get to meet my husband or son.  I think she’d like them or at least not say anything about them in front of me.

What did she teach me about life?

• You can make it on your own.

• You are stronger than you think.

• It is ok to enjoy the little things, like getting your nails painted or drinking diet coke.

• Live frugally.

• You’re never fully dressed without your lipstick.

• Wear an apron in the kitchen so you don’t mess up your clothes.

• Don’t go around talking bad about other people.

• Find something you love and do it well, even if it is a fruitcake. They can always serve a double purpose as a door stopper.