Somewhere around 7 years ago I walked into my soon to be in-laws house. Sitting there was a gray haired short lady with a heavy British accent. She was outspoken yet kind. I was SO nervous to meet her. I knew that she was the "ring leader" (ha) I was convinced if Mema didn't like me I was at the bottom of the food chain. I don't know if she really loved me or just tolerated me, but she was never cross with me and I loved her very much.
Over the years I got to know her well. I'd sit at her house and talk with her while Jason mowed her grass. She'd tell me stories, usually the same stories but I loved to hear them. They were her stories and she wanted them remembered. It didn't matter how many times she told them I'd listen as if it were the first time. I heard stories about WWII how she watched people die saw body parts in trees, how they stayed in bomb shelters and had rations "1 egg and slice of bacon per person per week" how she served in the Royal Navy, how she met her husband and married him. She got 10 days in the brig for being AWOL to marry him. She endured months without him, 4 weeks in an interrogation camp before she was ever able to come here and be with him.
My favorite story to hear was the one about when they got married. The magistrate had informed Bumpy that he had to have been a resident for 6 weeks before he could get married. So he says to him "son, how long have you lived here?" To which Bumpy replies "2 days sir" so the magistrate says "ONCE AGAIN SON- How LONG have you lived here?" Again bumpy says "2 days, Sir" the magistrate looks at Mema as if to say is something wrong with his brain? Mema jabs him in the side and the magistrate says "ONCE AGAIN, SON" and bumpy says "6 weeks, sir!!!"
She always lit up with that story even when she had gotten bad and didn't know who I was that story made her eyes twinkle.
Mema defeated death several times (in just the 6 years I've been married) . I remember one time in particular I was pregnant with Gavin, we'd just received the news he had SB. We didn't want to tell Mema because she was in the Hospital. She had asked me how the baby was, I replied with good. She wanted to feel him move, at this time he was active but not normally in the day. I remember praying God please PLEASE let him kick one time so Mema can at least feel him if she never holds him. He did, she felt him. I remember being so thankful I'd at least have that story to tell my son about his Great-Grandma. She survived it. And every single time after that. When Bumpy died, I was positive it was a matter of weeks, maybe months and Mema would join him. She didn't. She just kept on keeping on, which was exactly the type of woman she was, stubborn, feisty, strong, she was the boss and everyone knew it.
Mema would have been 95 in July. Monday night she went to be with Jesus. I know that she is happy there, her family is there, her husband. We will miss her dearly.
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