Beulah Daisy

My grandmother on my father's side was born in DeWitt Missouri around 1888. Her name at birth was Beulah Thorpe. Her parents did not give her a middle name. Instead she was able to select her own middle name when she reached age 10. She thought that Daisy was a pretty name, so she name herself Beulah Daisy Thorpe. I know little else about my grandmother's early years. She became a mature women during the roaring 20's. I am certain that she had no part of the social aspects of the period.

She married a widower who had a daughter. Her husband, John Leonard Bryant, my grandfather, died of lung cancer before I was born. Together they had a large family. Roby (from John's previous marriage), Margaret (died as a toddler from whooping cough), Dorothy, J.L., Elmer and my father Frank (the youngest). I also know that my grandmother served as postmaster for several years in DeWitt. I found that odd as women normally did not have such positions in her era. I can only assume that she served during war time when most of the men were off fighting.

My personal recollection of my grandmother is one of a very quiet and loving lady. She was someone quite comfortable with herself. She needed very little to survive, and could live life between her ears. I do not believe that I ever saw her angry. She was a person who could sit quietly in a chair for hours, without a TV, radio or book. She would just sit with her thoughts. If I passed by while she was just sitting, she would call me over, sit me on her lap and begin a conversation. One conversation we often had would be her telling me of the evils of smoking, and making me promise her never to pick up a cigarette. She had lost her husband, and years later, her step daughter Roby, to lung cancer. Both were smokers. On multiple occasions I promised never to smoke, but later broke that promise. Thankfully, she never knew.

Every summer, my grandmother would spend a week with my family and I would spend a week at her house. During the time she spent with us, she would have a routine of getting up, cleaning a room or two, reading her bible, then sitting down for the day. During the afternoon she would sit in a chair and nap for a hour or so. I always thought it strange to sleep sitting up, but she was very good at it.

During the week I spent with her, my time was mostly spent playing in the neighborhood. Her daughter (my Aunt) and family lived across the street. Uncle Walter, Aunt Dorothy and my cousins Joe and Jerry were usually willing to entertain me. Joe and Jerry were several years older than I so I was probably a nuisance to them. They were more interested in their nearly identical 1956 Chevy's, and high school girls than with a younger cousin.

My grandmother lived in a tiny house for the entire time I knew her. The 2 story, one bedroom home had a kitchen, bathroom and small living room downstairs and a large bedroom upstairs. When my grandmother could no longer climb the stairs she lived in the downstairs rooms, pulling a hide-a-bed from the couch each night. The same couch that became my bed when I stayed with her. She would let me sleep in the bed and she would sleep in a chair.

Her property backed up to a country club golf course. I would explore the course, hunting for lost golf balls and avoiding golfers. My sport back then was baseball. I remember one afternoon thinking how far a good baseball slide might go on the smooth surface of a golf green, so I tried it. After a good run to pick up speed I went into what I thought would be a long slide. My knee dug into the soft green, carving out a foot long trench. It didn't work like I thought it would, and no doubt left the greens keeper with a real repair job.

My grandmother never owned or drove a car. She walked most places, such as the grocery store, dentist and doctors office. A bus would pick her up for church. My Uncle and Aunt would take her anywhere else she needed to go.

My grandmother lived frugally, but managed to save a few dollars for each of her grandchildren. When I was 18, she presented me with a savings account book containing multiple deposits of 50 cents or a dollar. The total of the account was just over $100, and not a big deal to a kid clearing $60 a week with no bills. I probably spent it soon after it was given. I did not appreciate the sacrifice she put into each savings account.

My grandmother was not a drinker. But after experiencing several "spells" that I now suspect were mini-strokes, her doctor prescribed a shot of whiskey each night to thin her blood. My father would make fun of her drinking, which would embarrass her.

My father would call my grandmother every evening for a chat. Sometimes they would speak for only a few seconds, but more often that not, they would converse for 20-30 minutes.

In 1976, my grandmother suffered a serious stroke. The last time I saw her alive was in a downtown hospital room. She soon lapsed into a coma. I visited her one afternoon in the dark room. I held her hand and spoke to her, and felt a small, almost imperceptible squeeze of my hand . She died a few days later at the age of 88. I will always remember her quiet, loving disposition. She always had time for her grand kids, and spoke with her adult children daily. It was a simple time then, and she was a simple woman who lived an incredibly simple life.