The Watcher
by Margret Widdimer

She always leaned to watch for us
Anxious if we were late
In Winter by the window
In Summer by the gate

And though we mocked her tenderly
Who had such foolish care
The long way home would seem more safe
Because she waited there

Her thoughts were all so full of us
She never could forget
And so I think that where she is
She must be watching yet

Waiting til we come home to her
Anxious if we are late
Watching from Heaven's window
Watching from Heaven's gate

 

An Appalachian Lady

Ada 96 years Young!

 Great Memories of Grandmother Ada at her home

 

When Grandmother Ada came to visit me in KY (with my friend Ann Hodges) 

 Standing at Grandma's front door almost ready to leave for KY (me at age 15)

 

Visiting Grandma and family for Mothers Day...I always made sure she had a basket of flowers 

Grandma with her sisters Buelah and Blanch in WV

My Sister, Jeanine (6 months pregnant) with Grandma and me during an October visit

 

Me and my boys with Grandma during a Winter visit. I can remember entering her home from this front door...she used to have many plants in this entry that I would tend to as a child.  I remember the smell of her home and the sunshine that would enter the windows seen here and fall on the oriental rug bordered with the warm color of purple.  The hint of furniture seen here was a wood-framed couch much like the futon couches seen today.  I busted my head wide-open on this couch as a 3 yr old while riding piggy-back on my Sister's back.  I wish I had this couch and the  rug.  I do have a table that set in this area she used as a plant stand and a night stand table.  I have the English pea green Cat Lamp that I would look at while falling to sleep as a child.  I have Grandmother's etched wine glasses and her tea cups that are simply precious to me as well as her China as mentioned before.  I have her famous "blue" bowls she displayed in her kitchen and her aprons.  I have many pieces of her costume jewelry she purchased while working at the department store she so loved.  I have one of her cotton gowns, a couple of pair of Winter white gloves and a hat or two, a container of knicknacks, a vintage print of a lady dressed in a gown clinging to a rock with a standing cross mounted in the rock, a few containers with table linens and I have her cedar chest filled with old photos and a few childhood toys my kids used to play with while visiting her home.  Another item I cherish having is her sewing machine that she used while stitching so many creations together.  I have her sewing basket that set alongside that machine along with her scissors and thimbles, spools of thread and a variety of buttons.

 

 

 I feel very blessed to have these personal things that still smell like my Grandmother Ada.  But out of all these beautiful things, I cherish the seeds of kindness and love she planted in me.  I cherish our quiet time together, our tea time and our bedtime routine we followed when I visited with her. When it was close to bedtime, I would set on her bed and watch her open the jar of expensive night cream formulated by Elizabeth Arden.  I remember the smell of this cream and the smell of the powder she would apply all over her body.  Then, depending on the Season she would put on her cotton or flannel granny gown and wrap her hair in a hankerchief for the night.  We would then go to the kitchen for a little snack before slumber...warm buttered toast with applesauce.  Once finished with our night time snack we would retire to her bed where I would drift off to sleep after asking her many questions about life...and we would always say our prayers together.  After our prayers, she would always tell me all of the reasons why she loved our Lord and how to stay close to Him always.  My Grandmother loved Jesus Christ with all of her heart and her quiet confidence and inner strength came from her faith that proved to sustain her through all of her 96 years on this Earth.  She would sometimes sing hymns to me while we faced eachother propped up on our sides waiting to drift off to sleep.  I remember her singing "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus" and my childhood favorite "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".  She sang with a twang that identified her with her Irish/English Appalachian roots...every so softly like a songbird singing me to sleep. 

 

My mind's eye takes me back to a sweet time warmed with a closeness of a childhood that was lead by the love of quiet soul, Ada Christine Jennings Coffman Bailey.  I send my "Thank You's" to Heaven where you wait patiently from Heaven's window and from Heaven's gate.