Kickin' & Screamin'

Today my Mom got a special package in the mail.  Her brother had mailed her a box of old cassette tapes he recently ran across.  These were tapes that my grandmother (their mom) would make for my uncle when he was stationed at an Army base in Germany back in the seventies. She would talk to him hours on end, telling him all sorts of fun and random things, and when a tape was full she’d mail it to him.   I would often be at her house while she was making a tape.  She’d do everything from singing a song, telling him how she was planning to have chicken and dumpling for supper with a nice homemade lemon pie, to describing something funny that happened when she and my Mom went to the JC Penny outlet to look for Easter dresses.  Those “something funny” stories were extremely common, as my grandmother and my mom left a trail of funny everywhere they went.  Back in the seventies, this was a pretty clever technology…these cassette tapes, and I know my Uncle Lanier loved getting the tapes in the mail during his years in Germany.  I can guarantee he was in for a good laugh with each one.

While at Moms house today, we listened to one of the tapes together.  My grandmother, who I called “Nain Nain” (best pronunciation for whatever I was trying to mutter as a tiny baby…it just stuck as her name throughout the years) had made this particular tape on Christmas Eve of what we figured out was 1976.  I was seven years old.  Being an audio recording, we have to visualize the happenings in our heads as we listened, which was pretty easy.  I can picture it now….both my grandparents would have been sitting on the sofa together.  Always together, sweethearts from the time they married, at which time my grandmother was only 15 years old.  Always sitting close together, often holding hands.  My father would be in a chair, closest to my grandfather so they could easily talk, IF given the chance to get a word in.  Mom and I would be on the floor, near the Christmas tree.  The tree would have at least five packs of the silver sparkly “ice cycles” that every person who grew up in the 70s remembers.  And they would have all been on the front side of the tree, as Mom let me do the decorating each year, and I still hadn’t accepted the concept that you decorate the whole tree….not just the front side.

Today, when Mom pressed play on her old tape player, the first voice I heard was that of Nain Nain.  I cried.  She sounded exactly as I remembered.  She’s been gone for almost ten years now, but I hear her voice in my head every day.  Especially every time I do something that I know she wouldn’t understand or approve of, I can hear her say “Thy LAWD” while shaking her head.  Then she’d look at my Mother and say “reckon what she meant?”  Even though she had the best sense of humor I’d ever known, if was often hidden in her clever ways of saying things….when you weren’t even sure she was trying to funny at all.

The cooking that came from this woman’s kitchen….I hesitate to even TRY to describe it, because I know that just about everyone thinks their granny was the best cook ever….especially here in the south where fried chicken and biscuits were just a built in part of  any given Sunday.  My Nain Nain’s cooking was so good, it still makes my mouth water to think about some of her specialties.  That good old southern cooking where everything is cooked to absolute perfection, and you can’t eat without verbally expressing how delicious everything is.  On a typical Sunday dinner, after I’d eaten so much, I didn’t think I’d physically be able to drive back to the church for five o’clock choir practice, she’d say “you’re not stopping are ya?  How ’bout one more butter biscuit?  I’ll get the honey.  You didn’t eat enough.” After eating the additional biscuit that she talked me in to, cooked to homemade perfection and dripping in butter and honey, I’d back away from the table, hardly able to stand, unable to believe that she actually talked me in to one more biscuit.  As I walked away, she’d say, “you’re not gaining weight, are you?  I wouldn’t want you to gain a bunch of weight!” I’d wobble to the sofa for my Sunday afternoon food-induced nap, laughing.  As a teenager, these naps would usually take up the rest of the afternoon.  I’d often change back into my church clothes at her house before I took off in my 1980 Chevrolet Monza to get back to the church for that five o’clock choir practice.  She’d watch me walk out, eyeing me from head to toe.  I’d stop and wait before I left, for “the” comment.  There was always a comment.  If I had a slit in my dress, and the slightest bit of leg was showing, she’d say “ooooh, that’s pure sex, right there.”  I’d blush as I kissed her goodbye.

As I listened to my Nain Nain’s voice on that tape this afternoon, she explained to Uncle Lanier how she had decided that she wasn’t going cooking much for Christmas Eve that particular year, because she had overcooked at Thanksgiving, and it was impossible to do anything with all the leftovers.  So, this year she had limited Christmas Eve dinner to a baked turkey, dressing (what some of you folks call stuffing), corn, green beans, peas, two kinds of potatoes (cause you have to have the mashed potatoes to go with the peas), rolls, and a couple of desserts.  She just wasn’t going to “mess” with anything else.  She went on to tell Uncle Lanier that later on, she would take her tape recorder up to Tricia’s house (my Mom) and she’d record us as we all opened our Christmas gifts (this is what I was picturing in my mind…them on the sofa together, and the rest of us in our naturally assigned seats).  Among these gifts was a huge box that Uncle Lanier (and Aunt Sheilah, plus little cousin Branson) had mailed her from Germany.

The tone of the tape quickly changed as you could tell we were now listening to the big gift opening celebration at my house.  Nain Nain’s voice, now surrounded with ours, would narrate the events as we carried on.  Everyone was talking at one time, a common event in my family, but projecting above everyone was the loud, fiercely high-pitched voice of me….seven year old Mary Jane.  I sounded as southern as a child could sound.  I was beyond excited about opening my gifts, as any kid would be, but showing it with a lot of really loud talking.  “Woooo WEEEEE! I just love this nightgown!  I love it!  Ima gonna wear it ta-nite!  Wow wee, looky at how many presents I still gotta open!” As Mom and I leaned in closer to the tape player this afternoon, we could very faintly hear the voices of my father and my Paw Paw, probably having a quiet conversation as we ladies kept our voices up at foghorn level.  My little country voice would have fit well in the old Shake-n-Bake commercials….”it’s Shake an’ Bake!  And I hey-elped!”  On the tape, I suddenly started squealing at a pitch that would have hurt most hears, though my family probably thought nothing of it, as I had opened what I was screaming out to be “the beh-ust gi-uft evah!”  It’s Shaun Cassidy!  Ya got me the new Shaun Cassidy album!  Oh Wow wee, it comes with a postah!  A POSTAH!”

About this time, my husband walked in the room to find Mom and I listening to the tape.  He was convinced that we had the recent Dolly Party movie on the TV–you know, her movie that recently came out depicting her childhood?  But no–it was MY voice on the old cassette tape that he heard.  He sat down to join us as we continued to listen to the fun family times of Christmas Eve 1976.

We went on and on, Nain Nain opening a box of mugs that Lanier had mailed from Germany….a total of four, but as she talked to her tape recorder, “Sheilah, two of them got broke in the mail but that ain’t your fault!  We still have two good ones!  One for each of us!”  Then came the Hummel figurine, the bed spread and pillow shams, and then a present from Mom to Nain Nain–a beautiful etched glass bowl shaped like a basket.  (it still sits in Mom’s house today).  Nain Nain and my Mom were conversing about each and every gift.  “Isn’t that just the cutest thing?  Lawd, I LOVE that!”  Nain Nain loved the wrapping paper Lanier and Sheilah had used on the many gifts from Germany.  “Just look at that Germany wrapping paper!” A bit later, my Mom’s voice rang out, “you got me screwdrivers!” as my grandmother went on and on about how important it was for my Mom to have her own set of good quality screwdrivers, which–even though it wasn’t stated on the tape–I can guarantee you came from Sears and Roebuck.   Later came a new weed eater, followed my many other extravagant goodies.

It was an abundant Christmas as usual, as the gift opening just went on and on.  My grandparents spent an unbelievable amount of money on all of us each year, apologizing the whole time for not getting more.  We were all spoiled by their love and generosity, and blessed beyond measure to have them in our lives.

The funny talk went on, with my Dolly-Parton-as-a-child voice hovering above everyone…. “this is just the beh-ust Christmas evah!”….until the tape came to an end.  The click of the tape ending was sad, and I am happy that there are more to listen to as I visit Mom throughout the week.

There’s something about hearing the voice of someone you love long after they are gone from this earth.  It’s an eerie, yet comforting feeling that makes you feel like it’s all going to be okay.  There’s something about hearing your own voice as a child. That carefree, innocent version of yourself that’s just so excited about life.  Life and Shaun Cassidy.

I imagine that Mom and I will wear these tapes out listening to them.  I can’t imagine life without sweet memories.  I will retire tonight looking forward to making more memories, and I might even try to find an old tape recorder around here somewhere.  Wouldn’t that be fun?  Forget all the fancy technology, and the fact that I could just use my phone to video.  Just a good old fashioned audio recording….where you have to IMAGINE the visual part by REMEMBERING the wonderful times.   That’s what good stuff is made of.

Good night.