THAT LITTLE RED HOUSE V: Chantilly Lace

That little red house had to be absolute hell for her. She certainly hid it well from us.

My grandmother never worked, she never drove & she never thought there may be more for her out in the world. She always had her coffee brandy near by and her pack of cigarettes. Probably two of many horrible choices she thought brought her solace.

She would watch 15 kids if everyone needed her too. She’d feed an army of kids, grandkids, cousins, friends, friends of friends. She didn’t care, if you were there you got fed. She loved her family. I don’t think she ever really knew just how dysfunctional her life was. It was her life, she had kids to raise & she carried on.

She was a wonderfully funny woman. She had an opinion about everything & she shared it, whether anyone wanted to hear it or not. If you needed to know something about someone, she was the one you went to.

We used to spend hours listening to records in her dining room. She introduced us to old country music that heals the soul. We’d dance & sing to The Oakridge Boys & Loretta Lynn. We’d laugh at ourselves singing the Big Bopper’s Chantilly Lace. Then cry at the lyrics to Red Sovine’s Teddy Bear.

I remember she used to play Tammy Wynette’s D-I-V-O-R-C-E, on full volume and sing it at the top of her lungs. We’d laugh and sing along with her. Funny how we didn’t realize the meaning that song must’ve held for her. She was married young and she had 6 children. She was far from perfect, but to us she was everything.

Those memories mean more to me than I can say & to this day music is my go to when I need to calm my mind. I am a huge believer in music therapy, and it’s helped me tremendously in my life. Especially when dealing with pain & anxiety that comes with my illness. I owe that to my grandmother.

I miss her. I am only one among so many who miss her.

I miss my grandmother & my aunt.

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