Thoughts from Grandmama's House

I am sitting in "the study" as its called here at Grandmama's house on top of the hill that overlooks her little town. The town where my mother grew up as the Preacher's daughter and the high school cheerleader. The town where we all come to escape from one thing or another from time to time. This place has never been my home, but here inside these wood panelled walls I feel more myself and more secure than anywhere I have ever been including my own childhood home. This is my safe place. This is everybody's safe place if you are lucky enough to be a member of my family, and usually even if you are not but found a way to get in anyway. We like to feed people and we like to laugh. That makes for a pretty perfect combination if you ask any southerner. We are southern. There is no mistaking that.
It is a habit among the women in my family to pose as ridiculously as possible for pictures. Grandmama is a lady with pizzaz from her fully sequined Atlanta Braves hat to her sparkly little nick nacks all over the place. The woman doesn't leave the premises without at least 10 pieces of jewelry on. (We're talking real stuff here, none of that costume nonsense.) Case in point, I went with her to the local Food City a couple of weeks ago in preparation for the big 4th of July cookout we had. She has the prime spot in town for firework viewing. We took the convertable, top down of course, and I got to drive. While walking through the parking lot she announces "I feel so naked. I don't have on a stitch of jewelry." I offered to loan her a piece of my own to make the excusion more comfortable, but she refused. She's not really into sterling silver. So anyway, Grandmama made sure that we were always paraded about as young girls. Beauty pageants, cheerleading, dance, you name it. I had the best dress-up box of any kid I knew growing up with every manner of sequined, feathered, fringed pageant and recital costume imaginable passed down from my famously gorgeous Aunt Angie. As you can imagine, there is a lot of posing involved in the aforementioned activities. Now, we do it just for fun. At Easter we took a series of pictures of me posing senior portrait style using a column on the front porch as a prop. Among the hundreds of albums scattered throughout the house you can find shots of mom and Angie grinning like cheshire cats holding up a potted plant and pointing a perfectly manicured finger. Sometimes they do the whimsicle look up at something in the sky pose with the tip of one finger lightly touching a temple. I have no idea where this one came from, but it shows up with shocking frequency. Then there is my famous flamingo pose that I struck for every photo taken between '86 and '91. One leg bent in the fashion of the tropical bird and one hand on a hip. I recently realized while watching some late night TV Land that Chrissy from Threes Company strikes this pose in the opening credits of the show. It all fell into place. As a small child, having no idea that the concept of co-ed living was still rather taboo, I watched the show religiously. If you ask my mother about it today she will offer you no explanation for why I was allowed to watch this program as a child. I was also allowed to watch The Young and The Rest of Us as I called it. I've always known what I like. There is really no arguing with my preferences. Sherry discovered that early and its a good thing for both of us. Never have 2 such strong willed women shared one roof for 18+ years in the history of time.
Anyway, all of these ramblings aside, everyone should be so lucky to have a place like this where they can hide away. In under 45 minutes on any given day I can take a trip up I-75 and be in the warmest and most precious place I know. A place where no one calls me by anything other than Carrie Leigh, except for my Grandmama of course who never calls me anything other than Princess. Usually, My Little Princess. As a 26 year old woman it has never dawned on me to find this strange. In this house it is who I am. I am the Princess. I am the first born granddaughter. The loud one. The funny one. The one who recently found her place no longer as the spoiled college student who sits at the kitchen bar watching everyone else do the work to prepare the meals and clean up. Instead, I am becoming the woman who runs the errands, wraps the presents, maked the deviled eggs and designs the tablescapes. I am the one who does the emergency last minute Christmas shopping for everyone else. I am the one who they call for decorating advice and to ask for a recipe. I am a woman in this family now. I change diapers, run errands, help with the cooking....and the dishes. I will always be the Princess, but now I am the go-to girl, the adult who can be counted on. I have never had to do anything to earn my keep in this amazing family, but now I am contributing to it's flow, to our traditions, to our collective sanity. I am so proud to be a part of it. I am so blessed to have this house on the hill to run to and to make memories in. I am so happy that now my being a member of this family is more about giving than recieving. I am part of an elite group of women so warm, so caring, so fabulous, beautiful and gracious I honestly cannot imagine anyone not having what I have. I am so thankful. There are no words. Only thank yous that lift up from my soul to my Maker. These women are so a part of me, and I honestly could not ask for more.