Speech given at Gramma's Celebration of Life Memorial

Gramma loved to write and tell stories. And I loved to sit at her feet and listen. I would love to share some of our favorite stories and poems today.

In Celebrating Gramma’s life, I think it would be nice to go back to the beginning and listen to her very words about her start of life. I can just feel the humidity and hear the mosquitos and southern voices as I read Gramma’s sweet words. The setting is Hall Summit, Louisiana.

Sis

In a little log house with cracks in the floor

On the first day of June, nineteen hundred and four,

The Midwife was busily boiling the water

For soon they would have their first little daughter.

Then suddenly she cried loud and clear,

Their long awaited Baby was finally here.

Her silky black hair was just one big curl,

And eyes were wide open on this pretty little Girl.

John said to Jimmie, “everything is okay.”

Our first baby girl will be named Ida Mae!

What they didn’t know as they gave her a kiss,

The rest of her life she would be known as “SIS.”

She worked in the house along with her mother.

Her dresses were tattered and torn.

She worked in the fields helping her Brothers,

Planting and plowing the cotton and corn.

When this pretty young lady was seventeen

Changes took place in her life.

A handsome young man came along one day

And asked her to be His wife!

On April eighteen, nineteen twenty two,

William and Ida whispered, “I do.”

Their marriage vows, they sealed with a kiss.

For the rest of their lives, they were “Buck and Sis.”

Times were tough and the going was rough.

In Nineteen thirty three

When on a rainy day in September,

“Sis” happily gave birth to me.

So I wanted to tell her in a special way,

How much I honestly love her.

And I want to thank God on this Mother’s Day

For letting her be my mother!!!

Beautiful Valtia, “Gramma” was born in Red River Parish on September 12, 1933. Her lifetime was full of great years for fashion and Grandma made sure to wear her wavy hair and red lipstick in the 40s, her capris, pointy glasses, and red lipstick in the 50s, her flowery dresses and red lipstick in the 60s, her bell bottoms and red lipstick in the 70s, her neon joggers and red lipstick in the 80s, her pretty dresses and red lipstick in the 90s and into the next century. She loved her red lipstick.

She had auburn hair and grey eyes. Eyes that turned blue or green with her moods. I have read that only 2% of the population has these characteristics and they have very unique and special personalities. Unique and special pretty much sums up Gramma.

Gramma’s story about Aunt Viola I think sums up her teen years.

Viola

She grew up on a farm

with her brothers and sisters.

When she left home

They sure did miss her.

She was tall and good looking.

She was sweet as could be.

And Viola could dance

So graciously.

You haven’t seen anything

Until you’ve seen her dance.

And you would remember,

If you ever had the chance.

There were many great dancers

That  Viola put down,

With her black hair flying

And her skirt swingin’ round.

She would dance from evening

Until nearly morn.

When Viola would dance,

“Dirty Dancing” was born.

The Old cars we drove

Sometimes had no brakes.

When we drove around curves

Our breath they would take.

And there were times

When they looked like

The front wheels would part.

Sometimes we had to push them

To get them to start.

We’d had old cars and new cars.

Some, looked like a pretzel.

Ah, but you should have seen her,

When she drove her ‘edsel,’

She would open those red doors.

She would climb inside

Away she would go---

Viola would ride!

We like to remember

The things that we did,

Since we’re older now,

With a bunch of grandkids.

And we’re gonna tell you,

If you like it or not,

How we love the Lord

And how He loves us a lot.

Viola’s my aunt

And I love her to pieces

But I just have to boast.

Out of all her nephews,

And all her nieces,

I always knew,

She loved me the most!

Through these decades, this sweet country girl became the mom of two boys and three girls, 9 grandchildren, 13 great grandchildren, and 3 great-great grandchildren.

She lived in Louisiana and California, but she loved Louisiana the most. She loved to write and shared her love in a poem about this great state.

Living in Louisiana

There’s a beautiful old

Magnolia tree.

An alligator sleeping

By a cypress knee.

Pelicans flying

Far and near.

Bass and crane,

And swift running deer.

Herds of cattle,

Fields of hay,

Chickens and pigs

And ducks at play.

Majestic old colonial homes,

Pine trees shedding

Prickly cones,

The superdome, a home

For the New Orleans saints

To play the football game.

A Greenleaf cloak

On a proud old oak,

Plantations of sugar cane.

Watermelon hills, cotton fields,

Fishing the bayous.

Sailing the pirogues.

The downs where

Thoroughbreds race and canter.

That’s Living in Louisiana!

She loved her family more than anything else. She was kind, and thoughtful. She never missed a birthday for any of them. Everyone got a birthday card and many got a call and a song. My little boy Joshua has his July 18^th birthday card from “Gramma in Luzeanna” sitting on his nightstand right now. As I was looking for a phone number, I came across a message I saved from her in January when she called to sing our sweet girl Happy Birthday. I’ll leave that in my phone for as long as I can. How I love her sweet voice.

Every Christmas, she made sure everyone got a little something from her. She took time to make sure it was just the right thing. Because of my love for the beach, she sent me lighthouse salt and pepper shakers last year. My daughter asks to play with them all the time. But my daughter loves her little jewelry box Grandma sent her even more.

She had the same group of four best friends since first grade. The girls were so close they even shared each other’s gum and coats in grade school and later lived out life together, growing closer through every chapter. All my life, I thought they were my Aunts.

My earliest memories with Grandma came in the summers and weekends of my childhood. PJ and I lived in the sticks of Doyline and Haughton and she made sure to get us as often as she could and introduce us to important city things like the mall, the movies, the skating rink, the library, the swimming pool, feeding the ducks at Betty Virginia Park and Griffs Hamburgers.

To this day, Gramma is the only one I know who will order a burger fully loaded, but then scrape everything off. She said she loved the flavor of everything, but not the crunch.

We would all spend the night together and cuddle up in her bed…Grandma, PJ, Me, Erin. Sometimes other cousins like Sean and Stacey. Just like my mom does with her three youngest now. One of us would talk so much (I think it was me) that Grandma would finally exhale and turn the light off. Only that created more curiosity. As I saw all the little colorful dots in the air from the light going off, I would ask Grandma what these were. So many times people don’t see these. But Grandma always got me. She explained to me they were electricity dots and gave me a good lesson on electricity and Thomas Edison and the lightbulb. We fell asleep quick then.

Grandma loved everyone and would not tolerate hate or racism. One day she was driving PJ, me and Erin home from somewhere in Shreveport, and some men in long robes were protesting in the middle of Shreveport. It was The Klan. Without missing  a beat, Grandma put her hands up in the air and drove up on the median toward the guys with a shocked look on her face screaming “I’ve lost control of my car. Move!!!” She did not lose control of her car. But she did not want those guys in her peaceful town. They took off running from Gramma!

That was the way she was. She could stop just about anything and do it with absolute wit, grace, charm and humor. You would be in trouble and not even realize it until later. But if she raised one her eyebrow at you, better watch out.

She had the most beautiful laugh of anyone I knew. She laughed at life, the good and the tough parts too. She laughed at heartache and sickness and chose to be thankful. If she was in the hospital, she was making a gratitude list about her favorite doctors and all the things that were NOT wrong with her. She never focused on what was being treated, just that she had a great team of doctors and a sound mind.

She really did not like hospitals. One January when she was in and worried sick she was going to miss the SuperBowl, she kept trying to prove to them she was ready to go. She’d pace the floor back and forth to let them know she could get around just great. I am sure she even considered doing somersaults. She ate all her cheesecake to show them she had an appetite. So she used her wit. She decided to tell the doctor the name of every single NFL football team in alphabetical order. Then she told them the starting quarterbacks. I think they realized she was strong and witty and let her go home at last.

As I grew older, my Grandma became my dear friend. I would come over and bring her cake and we would talk and tell stories. I loved to hear her talk about going to casinos and dancing with my Grandpa, fishing with her friends, riding in Grandpas bread truck, the alligator that snuck in their backyard in Natchitoches, the babies she gave birth to and the babies she lost. She was always at such peace as she shared her heart with me. No matter how happy or sad the story was, she kept that positive, thankful demeanor. Never ever was there an ‘if only,’ but it was always God is good.

God is good.

And as I asked her for marriage advice, she told me to have a sense of humor. Pick your battles. Love with all your heart even when you don’t feel like it. Serve others. And don’t look at the bad, but focus on the good. Write poems about what ticks you off.

Then I found this poem about a nightmare.

Nightmare

In the middle of the night

I awoke in fright.

Frightened by something

I had dreamed.

I was falling down a well

As far as I could tell.

And nobody heard

When I screamed.

I could hear someone laugh.

I tried opening my mouth.

But the words just wouldn’t come out.

What a horrible dream.

You scream and scream,

And nobody hears.

Then you shout.

I trembled inside.

And I almost cried

As I sat on the edge of the bed.

There was no need to weep.

I could not sleep.

I had to get up instead.

I walked across the floor,

On my way to the door.

I wandered about this nightmare,

Going over it all.

I walked down the hall

To get to my favorite chair.

But the light was dim

In the room I was in,

When I turned around to sit down.

Then I felt myself sink,

And I started to think,

“He’s left the darn

 seat up again!”

She had so much sass and wit and loved to turn things around. We all love her trucker poem and believe it needs to be a country western song.

Trucking

He walks in the truck stop, a handsome man.

And flirts with all the women he can.

He’s very conceited and oh so vain

As he says to the ladies, “trucking is my game.”

Come with me babe, I’ll bring you luck.

You’ve just met a man that drives a truck.

In my eighteen wheeler I’m sitting pretty

And I’ve got a girl in every city.

Just when they think I’ll stick around

I find me a woman in another town.

And today I’m looking for someone new.

You seem to be feeling kind of blue.

Your rabbit’s foot just brought you luck.

You’ve just met a man that drives a truck.

Well, hello trucker, I like your style.

But I can match you mile for mile.

In my eighteen wheeler, I’m getting down

And I leave men in every town.

Today I’m looking for someone new.

You seem to be feeling kind of blue.

So come on baby, trust your luck.

You’ve just met a woman that drives a truck.

Indeed, Gramma would not go back and change things. She was pulled over one Mother’s Day and never let it go. In fact her run in with the law became a series of poems about Bad Billy Joe that were read on the radio in Shreveport and Hall Summit. 

Hall Summits Hero

I’ve got a gun on my hip and a pen in my hand,

And I’ll get you for speeding for I’m a law man.

I don’t care if you’re young, don’t care if you’re old.

When you drive in my town, better do what you’re told.

I was put here to guard and I’ll come down on you hard,

Says Hall Summit’s hero, Bad Billy Joe!

You say forty five, but I see fifty five,

Tell me old woman, where’d do you learn how to drive?

You can’t show me anything that I haven’t seen.

I know you’re gonna tell me, your record is clean.

Speeding through my town wasn’t meant to be, but,

Old women and kids won’t listen to me!

When you drive in my town, you should drive slow.

My radar will catch you and  I won’t let you go.

Says Hall Summit’s Hero, Bad Billy Joe.

Now you take this ticket and get out of town.

You come to court on the day I wrote down.

I’ll keep your license til you bring me the money,

And I’m warning you lady, don’t you try nothing funny.

I sure hit the jackpot on this Mother’s Day.

Whoever said writing tickets don’t pay?

I wrote three in one hour. Now how’s that for power?

My radar is beeping and I’ve got to go!

Says Hall Summit’s Hero, Bad Billy Joe.

Gramma loved to write and wrote until she could not see anymore. As her eyes began to fail, she would not accept one failed drivers test. And decided to look up every DPS office in a 50 mile radius and take the test over and over again. She finally had to give up on driving as her eyes became worse. That did not stop her sweet loving thankful sassy spirit. No way.

What I like to think right now is that this wonderful woman has eyes to see again. She is in Heaven with Tom Landry and her mom and dad and so many more and she can see how beautiful you are. She has a whole body. She is dancing and looking at sunsets, sunrises, her beautiful family that she loves so much. She can see better than any of us right now.

On those long afternoons sitting by her side listening to her story, I often asked her about the meaning of life, why it all matters, what wisdom she wanted her legacy to know.

She told me that most people overthink this. And most people think too much of themselves.

We need to think of others greater than ourselves. Be selfless. Think of others. Love God with all your heart. Love others. Be Kind. Be thoughtful. Be Brave. Laugh. The trials we go through are only making us stronger, bringing us closer to God and preparing us to help someone going through something similar down the road. Love God and love others. Think of others. Be Brave. Be Kind. 

This is what it’s all about.

Praise God for the legacy of Val Day and for the joy and peace and sight she has right this minute.