giddyiguana

I just got some very sad news: "Grandmama" Azilee Collins has passed away.

I must clarify here that "Grandmama" Collins was not my biological grandmother. However, due to my unusual family situation in which my actual grandparents basically had to become my parents, I ended up with adopted "grandparents" all over the town of Barnwell. I sincerely wish that all of you could have met Grandmama Collins. She was one of the sweetest, kindest women to have ever lived.

As I have undoubtedly mentioned before, when I was very young, Daddy had a full-time job working in the tritium production facility at the Savannah River Plant. Mama, on the other hand, would sometimes take temporary clerical jobs to help pay the bills whenever it was necessary. During these times when both my parents were working (or during that brief period when Mama was in the hospital), Grandmama Collins was the one who would keep me. She, along with her husband Sammy and her adult daughter Margie, would keep me, along with several other neighbourhood children, and do so with the loving gentleness that only a grandmother can provide.

Many of my happiest childhood memories revolve around her little green house down on Main Street. I fondly remember digging holes with my friends in that shady spot between the oak tree and the storage shed in her backyard, looking for worms and toads. I loved to watch shows like "The Addams Family" and "Scooby-Doo" on her TV, since we didn't have cable at my house. I can remember playing with her cute little black dog, petting her big white rabbit, being a little scared of her fluffy white cat. I very much enjoyed building towers out of toy blocks in her living room and then calling her into the room just to show her just how tall I could make them. I loved going to her "little church" on Galilee Road with her when I could, since my parents usually took me to the "big church" on Allen Street instead. And I can even remember nights when I camped out in her living room, dozing in front of the TV while I waited on Daddy to come pick me up.

Now, her husband Sammy had passed away years ago and her daughter Margie had moved into the red house next door, leaving Grandmama Collins all alone in that old green house. All the neighbourhood kids she used to keep have all grown up and moved away as well. She was getting up in age (she was well into her 80s) and was in poor health. It's all very sad, but I know for certain that she's in a better place now. I only hope she knows how much she meant to me. I was going to drop by and see her the next time I came to Barnwell, just to say hello, give her a big hug and let her know I was thinking about her. And now I'll never have that chance.

Grandmama Collins's passing has made me think about a lot of things, including how much I miss Barnwell sometimes. It has been said that it takes a village to raise a child, and this was certainly true in my case. My adopted grandparents all over town all took an active role in keeping an eye on me, keeping me out of trouble, and instilling the strong belief in the inherent worth of humanity that is still directing my behaviour to this day. The problem is, Barnwell is a tiny little town with very few opportunities, even for someone with a college education. I've moved on to "bigger and better things" here in Spartanburg, but here there is no sense of community here like there was in Barnwell. In my home town, everyone knew everyone else and we all looked out for each other. Here in Spartanburg, I know virtually no one. Even the people who live in my own building are mostly strangers to me.

But what would I have if I went back to Barnwell? Grandmama Collins has passed on, as have most of the "sweet old ladies" I loved so much growing up, like Mrs. Christopher, Mrs. Goodwin, and Mrs. Faye, along with my actual (biological) aunts Florence, Dida, and Maxine. My next-door neighbour (and another of my adopted grandmothers) Mrs. Margie is a widow now, since her husband Mr. Harry Lee passed away in 1997. My neighbours on the other side, Mrs. Johnnie and Mr. Sandy, are still living, although both are in very poor health as well. Even my old housekeeper, dear, sweet Mrs. Gladys, has had to slow down drastically in her advanced age. And virtually no one I grew up with stayed there either; we all went our separate ways as soon as we graduated high school.

So what now? I have always said I wanted my children to enjoy the same happy upbringing that I enjoyed, but where is that even possible anymore? Certainly not here in the cities, where everyone seems to view everyone else with suspicion, if not open hostility. But if I move back to the countryside, what opportunities would be there for either me or my children? I don't know what to think anymore.

I guess "family" is what you make of it. Mine was certainly non-traditional, but it was very large and very happy nonetheless. My only hope is that I can instill in my own future children the same sense of respect and values that all my beloved "grandmothers" instilled in me when I was still a child.

I'm so sick of writing about the deaths of the people important to me. But I need to deal with it somehow...

I love you, Grandmama Collins.