Mom and Papa

René Belcher Mills wrote about O.R. and Ruth Manning: I loved the last issue of the newsletter; it was an honor to have my grandparents featured. They are so precious to me, I’m glad others feel the same way. Mom was as close to perfect a person, as I have ever known. She always tried to find the best quality in everyone; I don’t remember her ever saying anything ugly or unkind about people. She believed in thinking of others first. Her favorite saying to Risa, and me when we would argue, was “prefer your sister” in other words, think of her first. To this day, I try to prefer my sister.

Mom loved to sing and play the piano, especially at church. She would always teach songs to Risa and me, and have us get up in church and sing. We were so bashful, it was a difficult task; I’m sure it sounded that way. Mom would play the piano and we would stand beside her at the piano singing our scared little hearts out. When the music got to be louder than our voices, Mom would encourage us to sing louder. When would hear her say, “sing” we knew we needed to get louder. No matter how we sounded, she was proud of us.

We learned to swim at the lake. I never thought of what her age was at the time, but looking back on the situation, she was a go-getter. She would get out in the boat with her bonnet on and paddle around while we swam. After swimming, she would fix us a snack of a peanut butter sandwich and a “snuff crystal” glass of coke.

Mom was a good cook; she always cooked a big breakfast. Biscuits and milk gravy were what I remember liking the best. She always had a variety of jellies she had made or had gotten from her sisters. The best thing was “cow butter”; that was a treat. She kept the “cow butter” in the freezer, and got it out on special occasions. I don’t remember Mom ever making the cow butter, although I’m sure that she did. She got it from Aunt Jess. I remember going to Aunt Jess’ and she would have the butter churning on the back porch. Do y’all still do that at your house Aunt Jess? (Editor’s note: Jessie could no longer care for cattle after she lost Meredith, so the cows are no longer there and the “cow butter” supply long ago ran out replaced by I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.) Shredded wheat was Mom’s nighttime meal. She would buy the big biscuits of shredded wheat and break them up in a goblet, not a bowl. I liked that. Papa would sit in his corner of the kitchen on a stool and eat peanut butter from a spoon. Isn’t it funny how small memories like those mean so much now? When my sister Teri was young, she would say, “When I grow up, I’m going to live in a big house with lots of animals and feed them all shredded wheat.” That came from Mom eating shredded wheat. When I see a box of shredded wheat, it makes me think of Mom. I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t think of her in some way. When I smell Vicks, I think of mom. She would put a little dab on her lips at night. Daniel Green house shoes were her trademark; they should be renamed Mom’s house shoes. I see her every time I see those shoes.

I’ll never forget their poodle, Matese, (I’m not sure of the spelling) and the big white cat, Tami. Matese was smart -- Mom had trained him. He would always nudge her under her leg when he wanted to go outside. I always wanted him to nudge my leg, but he never would. At night, Mom and Papa would get a candy bar and Matese knew what they were talking about when Papa would say, “You want a bar of candy?” Matese would get excited and start running around. They finally had to start spelling c-a-n-d-y. Matese tried to portray being a tough dog; he would sit at the screen door and bark and growl at Tami, the cat. It was if he were saying, “You better be glad I can’t get out there.” My daddy, Bill Belcher, laughs about the day Matese got out the door after he and Tami had been fighting through the screen. Tami rode him like a cowboy; Matese was bucking like a bull and squealing like a pig. He could not get rid of her. That was so funny, you could almost see the humiliation in his face.

Mom and Papa made a good team. This is the way I saw them; Mom was the serious one and Papa was the jokester. He was always “pulling someone’s leg”. He loved to sing; You get a line and I’ll get a pole, was his specialty. His favorite TV show was The Rifleman. After each episode, he would always say the same thing; “Well they shot him in the fracas.” Papa gave the people he liked nicknames. Mom was Babe. Aunt May was Doc.

I don’t remember ever hearing Mom and Papa argue. When Papa got mad at anyone he gave them the silent treatment. I’ll never forget him getting so mad at Risa and me. We went fishing with him one day; he caught a lot of fish and had put them all on a stringer that he had attached to the boat and it hung down in the water. Risa and I were bored and would take the string of fish and pull it around in the water. I don’t really remember how it happened, I think we were fighting over who was going to hold the stringer, anyway, we dropped the stringer and it sank down into the lake out of sight. We looked at each other horrified. When Papa realized what we had done, he was more than mad at us. He wouldn’t say a thing to us; we wanted to be anywhere except in that boat with him and begged him to take us back to the dock. Our punishment was having to stay out there. I can’t remember how long we had to continue fishing, but it was long enough to make a life long impression on us.

Risa and I spent just about every summer vacation with Mom and Papa. We went to Shreveport at least once while we were there. We would go to J. C. Penney’s and have the car serviced then we would go across the street to McDonald’s for lunch. Papa would go in to make the food order then bring it out to the car. I loved his generosity he would get everyone two of everything, two hamburgers, two French fries. That was a treat; it wasn’t everyday you got to eat at McDonald’s. That McDonald’s is still there, J. C. Penney’s at Shreve City has moved to a new location, but the buildings are still there and when I pass them they bring back the good old days.

My grandparents were two very special people. These are just a few of my fondest memories of them. Every kid should be as lucky; to experience a relationship like we had and make sweet memories like these. I wish they were still here so that I could tell them just what they mean to me. Thank you Mom and Papa.