Today would have been my Nannie Stowe’s birthday, Mazelle. She died at age 92, May 3, 2012. Everyone always told me I look just like her when she was younger. My Popow told me that a lot, my mom’s dad. Nannie was the only one, besides my mom to stand up to the fact that I was my dad’s daughter. That story will come in another chapter, called A Permanent Scar. When I saw her in 2007 or 2008, the first time in 20 years, I couldn’t believe how much my ankles look like hers. My legs look just like hers, period. I cried, wondering how my dad could ever doubt I was his daughter just by seeing how much our legs looked alike. Just alike!
I don’t remember much about my Grandpa, her husband. I don’t remember them together, because I was so little when he died. I remember a little about him. He spent money on us. I remember that. He bought us things we liked. I know I have very fond memories of Nannie as a child until I was about 11 or 12. I remember every summer spending weeks at a time with her, my siblings, and our cousin. Those were some of the absolute best days of my life!
Nannie never even had her drivers license, so we walked everywhere we went. She lived in Toccoa, GA. She was scared to drive. It was so fun and adventurous being with her. It was definitely different times back then. We always woke up to Sunday morning breakfast being cooked, the aroma of that woke us up every single day we were with her. That smell is heavenly to me, and always reminds me of home. I will always cherish those memories.
I don’t know what really happened, why we stopped going to see her. I saw her very few times after 11-12 years old.