I was angry at him, and honestly at almost 31 years old, I still am. But, by that age, the damage had been done. I’m convinced my memaw’s prayers are a large part in my dad giving up alcohol when I was 10. She told me that every morning when I got to memaw’s house, I would say “Memaw we need to pray for my daddy because he did such and such last night.” And every morning, without questions or hesitation, memaw would get down on her knees with me in front of the couch and pray with me for my daddy. And my grandma asked me if I remember praying with memaw every morning as soon as I got there. I was at my grandma’s house yesterday and my 4 year old asked about her mama, which got us reminiscing about memaw. I was in a place of freedom.īut, it turns out, it’s the things I don’t remember that made my memaw such a special person to me. I was in a place where I could just be a kid and not have to worry about the grown ups around me. As long as I heard that sound I knew I was in a place where no-one could hurt me. I can remember her constantly singing or humming old gospel hymns. During this time I stayed with my memaw during the day while my parents worked and the happiest times of my childhood were spent at her house. I can remember him coming home drunk and just putting holes in the walls or spanking my brother or me for absolutely no reason. Unfortunately, a lot of times that ended up being me, my brother, or the walls and furniture of our home. My dad was an alcoholic, and not the fun kind, but the kind who took all his anger out on whoever or whatever was in front of him. You see, I didn’t have the best childhood. The person I needed growing up was my memaw, and she was there every single time without fail. Y’all when I say this one struck home I mean it.
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