Mary Virginia Lynn

The barn smells of sweet thick hay these days.  Mixed with the distinctive smell of horses, it reminds me of my Grandma Virginia.  Since her passing earlier this month, it seems my senses have been turned on high and I can't touch a horse without thinking of her.  "Oh I love the smell of horses," she'd say.  "I had a pony; did I ever tell you that?"  "Yes Grandma, a few times.  Didn't you ride her to school?"  And she would tell the story I grew to love so much of her big brothers lifting her up on her pony every morning for her ride to the country school.  At the end of the day, they would lift her up on her pony again, and because she was quite young, little Virginia would often fall asleep on the way home.  "But that pony knew her way home!" she would say with a proud smile.  She loved her pony, who was appropriately named Beauty.  Once, she let Beauty run the whole way home and the poor little horse nearly expired.  When she got home, her father met her and calmly said, "Now Virginia, you need to walk your pony until she cools down before either of you can have a drink."  It was clear that Grandma loved horses, loved animals, and loved people who loved animals.

Before I was married, Grandma called my boyfriend, Matt, my "special friend."  They bonded through their love of discussing investments and she always asked about my special friend, even after we stopped dating.  She reminded me how much she liked him and it was she who unknowingly convinced me to marry that special friend of mine.  We were married in her yard, next to all of the birds, squirrels, and stray cats that came to eat their fill at Virginia's house.  "Look, that squirrel is hungry," she'd say while pointing to the fattest squirrel you'd ever seen.  "I better go put out more corn."  Grandma measured a person's goodness by how nice they were to animals.  After Matt and I were married and adopted a dog, she would say "Oh I like him, he is good to animals."        




A visit to Grandma's house had one guarantee; you would not leave hungry.  Whether it was tenderloins, chocolate mint bars, cookies that always contained walnuts, Diet Rite soda, or the most amazing sour cream raisin or lemon meringue pie, you were going to eat it, and you were going to eat a lot of it.  Even the sandwiches made with mayonnaise and butter.


While looking in my own cupboard the other day, I saw only three jars of elderberry jelly and I burst into tears.  Usually, it's full, but now all that's left is the last of the elderberry jelly that Grandma and I made together.  I am thankful she took the time to teach me, because until then, I didn't truly know what a rolling boil was.  Without her instruction, my jelly would have been just juice.

When I received news of Grandma's passing, I had a vision of her with Grandpa Lowell; they were young and beautiful, she had bouffant hair, he had hair, and they were dancing.  I imagine that's what they looked like when they were married, in secret before he left for the war.  She was in nursing school and being married was not allowed.  Grandma didn't care for rules like that, and she held tight to her convictions.  During her nursing career, she once baptized a baby in secret because the baby was not going to live very long.  The parents did not plan for it to be baptized, but Grandma had other plans.  I am proud to have come from a woman who came from this woman.







I am proud to be a granddaughter of Mary Virginia, or Ginny as Grandpa called her.  A woman who loved animals, loved people, and loved to feed them all.