In one of my first memories, I was crying. Strong hands lifted me up. I was on grandpa’s knee. I must have been not much more than a year old by the great height of his knee and his chest and head over me. The quality of light and the woodsmoke smell was that of the living room of my grandparents’ house, the one built just after the civil war. Grandpa’s voice was almost scolding. “Don’t you hurt my granddaughter!!” I stopped crying in confusion. I was his granddaughter! I wasn’t a stranger who hurt me!! I tried to explain, but Grandpa only laughed. He just would not understand me!
I was fortunate to often be with my mother’s parents, Bob and Florence Nichols. They were a gift. A different sourse of love and security for me. I was their first grandchild. While we lived at McLane Bob was often working in Erie as an electrician. He told me later that he used to pick me up for the weekend on his way home from work. “You were such a little thing. Talked so early. You used to stand up behind my shoulder as I drove and talk the whole way.” Obviously, pre-seatbelt time!
Another gift that Grandpa passed on to me was his love of horses. Grandpa had bought the family’s black and white pony, Trixie, for his boys. Uncle Gil, the youngest was closer to me in age than to my mom.
In another early memory, I am walking toward the barn with several adults including my mom. I was holding grandpa’s wide calloused hand. Grass and wildflowers of the lush humid eastern Pennsylvania summer are taller than my head. We are going to see Trixie’s new baby!! “I want to ride Trixie by myself!!” I said pulling on Grandpa’s hand. “You are too little for that, Karen, and now Trixie is busy with her baby.” I hopped in frustration, then I saw them. Trixie! And her baby! Long legged, awkward and skinny. He stared at us with huge eyes. He was beautiful!! “Can I ride her baby?” I pulled on grandpa’s hand. “He’s too little.” Grandpa answered. I stamped my foot, “I am too little too!! If we are both too little, we should be just right!!” The adults just wouldn’t understand!!
My mom’s three younger brothers were still in school and living at home when we stayed at Nichols as mom and dad prepared to leave for Kenya. I remember peeking, opening my eyes during prayer at supper time, and being shocked that Uncle Lee had his eyes open too! Old grandpa Nichols used to be at the table too. He had no teeth!! And had to have his corn cut off the cob. The sweet corn from grandma’s garden was SO good. Almost always, Grandpa thanked God for the food and asked God to protect his family from, “the world, the flesh and the devil.”