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Authors: Kay Robertson,Jessica Robertson

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We all understand the importance of generations and generational blessings. When we get together with Phil and Miss Kay and with our children and Lisa’s grandchildren, we have four generations under the same roof. That family line is a powerful thread running through all of us as Robertsons. But intertwined with that thread is another thread for each of us, the generational heritage
we bring from our own mothers and fathers, our grandparents, and other members of our extended families. It’s amazing how all of this works together to weave a tapestry of love and faith in our lives and in the lives of our children.

16

AIN’T LIFE GRAND?

Miss Kay

When I think about the old saying “Ain’t life grand?” I can’t help but think about my
grand
mother, Nannie, and my
grand
children. All of these people have made my life grand indeed.

As a child, I lived near my grandparents, but not quite close enough to walk to their house easily. My family lived just down the road from my grandparents, and our family store was almost exactly halfway between the two houses. Our little town of about three hundred people, Ida, Louisiana, was located on the highway that runs between Texarkana and Shreveport, right about the halfway point, so a lot of traffic came through each day. The traffic was good for business in the store, but it meant no one would let me walk to my grandparents’ house alone. Someone always had to take me or, when I got a little older, watch me cross the highway.

I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house and loved every minute of it. It was a safe and happy place for me, and I look back
on the years I spent with my grandparents as some of the best years of my life. One of my biggest regrets is that I did not record or write down many of the things my grandmother told me—the stories of her childhood, stories about her faith, and the simple words of wisdom she spoke as far back as I can remember. Like most young people, there was a time I thought I would never forget those things. There was also a time when I thought I would always have my grandparents. I could not imagine ever being without them, especially without my grandmother—but my grandfather died when I was twelve. Those people are gone now, and some of the memories are already getting a little fuzzy. I would give anything to be able to pull out a tape or a journal and relive them. I try to encourage people I know to take time to record or write down the things that are important to them, especially family stories and special memories, because a time will come when they will want to read or listen to them.

N
ANNIE AND
M
E

When I was growing up, in a small Southern town, the local store was not anything like the grocery stores or supermarkets of today. It was a gathering place. Life seemed to move more slowly than it does today, and people came to my daddy’s store not only to buy their groceries but also to visit with their neighbors, talk about the news, and catch up on what was happening around town.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved and valued older people. Maybe that started during my days in the store. Especially in the wintertime, old women came to the store to sit around
the heater. They were lonely (and cold), and the store was a hub of life and activity for them. I was a very social child, and I totally enjoyed visiting with the older people in our town. They called me “Little Katie Carroway,” and I thought that was cute. I did my best to engage them in conversation or to entertain them with stories about my animals.

But there were no old people I loved like I loved my grandmother. In addition to sitting on the swing, waving at cars, and talking every evening, we did all kinds of other things together. For example, I had the cutest little black-and-white Shetland pony at my grandparents’ house. His name was Tony, and he was so patient with me! I would ride him while my grandfather plowed, then Nannie would tie him to a tree and watch me do tricks while he just stood there and let me do whatever I wanted to do to him. In those days, I wanted to be just like Annie Oakley. I had a cowgirl outfit, and I would turn flips off of Tony. I had the time of my life with that little horse, and I think Nannie enjoyed it too.

Nannie had a pet too—a little fox terrier named Lady who
really
could do tricks. She could jump up in the air and do all kinds of things, even flips. Nannie and I were just crazy about that little dog. We never knew exactly where she came from but decided she must have been traveling with a family who stopped at the store and accidentally left her there. I cannot imagine anyone would have left behind such a good pet on purpose, especially in those days, but at least she went to a good home. Nannie kept Lady for the rest of that dog’s life.

Nannie taught me all kinds of things about nature, such as the fact that there are “nice” caterpillars and “bad” caterpillars. I learned
at an early age to tell the difference between the two and I collected as many nice ones as I could find. But I did not just collect them; I made a circus out of them! I had all kinds of little circuses when I was a child, using any kind of animal I could corral—earthworms, turtles, nice caterpillars, whatever I could find. Daddy always told me to stay away from skunks, and he would not let me touch squirrels, so most of my circus animals were small, but I just loved them.

One day, I put an entire circus of caterpillars in a box and took it to my daddy’s store. The old people who sat around visiting with each other thought the circus and I were great entertainment. They thoroughly enjoyed it until all the caterpillars got loose. That was the end of my traveling circus, but I kept a circus of various types of animals at home and at my grandparents’ house for years.

When I was not playing circus, I liked to play beauty shop, and Nannie never minded being my model. She had very thin hair, which she never cut—ever, not once in her whole life. It grew down her back to a certain point and then stopped. I remember many times when she sat patiently while I teased it, braided it, or put it up on top of her head. She also enjoyed sitting and watching me try on her hats, scarves, and jewelry while parading in front of the mirror.

One thing I really liked about my grandmother was that she was definitely
not
a neat freak. I am pretty sure I inherited that from her, and I think all my family would agree. No one could ever rightly accuse me of being too neat. I loved my grandmother’s relaxed approach to everything and the fact that her house was often a little messy, because that made me feel at home. I never was afraid I would lose or mess up anything. I felt free to explore Nannie’s house, play with her things, and let my imagination run wild.

My aunt Georgie visited my grandmother a lot and even though she was actually Nannie’s sister, she called Nannie “Mother.” She
was
a neat freak, and she had a habit of getting onto Nannie and me when I played with Nannie’s nice things. I cannot even count the times I heard her say to Nannie, “Don’t let Katie play with that!”

Nannie had a set of beautiful demitasse cups I used to play tea party. No one was there, of course, but I liked to pretend I had a group of friends around me and all of us were drinking tea from Nannie’s special cups. That especially got on Aunt Georgie’s nerves. One day, as usual, she saw me playing tea party with the cups and said to Nannie, “Don’t let her play with those. They are expensive and they are nice, and she will break them.”

I knew the cups were special, and I was very careful with them. I felt so good that day when Nannie responded to Aunt Georgie, “Number one, she would only break something by accident. She would not do it on purpose. And number two, those cups are just things, and people are more important than things.” Nannie knew how much fun I had at my tea parties and my having a good time was much more important to her than making sure nothing got broken.

I am so glad my grandmother felt the way she did about her things. She always kept her possessions in perspective, and I had hours of enjoyment at her house because she was that way. I try to be the same way with my grandchildren. I do not want them coming to my house and being afraid I will get upset if they break something. Over the years, society has put so much emphasis on
stuff—having nice stuff and getting more stuff. We have become a culture of accumulation and “What about me?” I never heard those kinds of things growing up. People worked hard to get what they needed and wanted; they took care of what belonged to them and they shared with others in need. People were not so focused on getting more and more stuff.

I wish we had not lost that attitude and generous spirit in our country because it was a very good way to live. In recent years, with 9/11, we have seen that many people still have the ability to reach out, pull together, share with others, and think about others. A tragedy will almost always help people return to the things that really matter. But I am afraid we have lost our ability to be content and to care for others, and I wish we could get it back.

S
OMEONE’S IN THE
K
ITCHEN WITH
N
ANNIE

As I mentioned earlier, my grandmother
always
seemed to be cooking. She was often the first person in our community to take food to people who had sickness or a death in their family. I saw her do that often while I was growing up, and other ladies in the community did the same. If a family lost a loved one or was dealing with an illness, they hardly ever had to think about what they would eat. The women of the town provided for them. Taking food to people in need was a way of showing them you cared about them and about what they were going through. That doesn’t seem to happen much anymore; people do not reach out to others as much as they used to. Back then, food was a way of showing love, and for me, it still is.

These days I try to teach my grandchildren about cooking and to pass on my love for cooking to them. Cooking is not something I do because our family has to eat; it’s something I do because I thoroughly enjoy it. My love for cooking started in childhood in my grandmother’s kitchen, and now I want my grandchildren to learn to love cooking in my kitchen. They love my biscuits, and if they don’t learn anything else, they will learn how to make those! If you want to learn to make them, too, the recipe is in the section of this book called “Inquiring Minds Want to Know” and also in my cookbook entitled
Miss Kay’s Duck Commander Kitchen.

F
UN
T
IMES
T
OGETHER

My grandchildren are always eager to hear stories about my childhood, whether I talk about being in the kitchen with Nannie, doing tricks on Tony, or loving the old people at the store. They are interested in stories about their fathers when they were young. I sometimes rely on Alan to talk about those days because he has a great memory and remembers a lot of things I have forgotten. They also love to hear about the things Nannie and I used to do together. I try to do with them some of the same things I did with her years ago, and we also do new things I have thought of recently.

I love to laugh with my grandchildren. I want them to have fun with me, and I try to make just about everything an adventure. One day I decided to take them to visit Phil’s sister, who lives just over the hill and through the woods from Phil and me. There is a well-worn trail Phil and I normally take to her house,
but that day I thought I would give the children a little adventure by taking a different route. I led the way down an overgrown path that was completely covered with vines. We almost felt like we were pioneering through an African jungle. The children loved it, and I thought it was fun, too, until I got so tangled up in a bunch of vines I literally could not move. I didn’t want to frighten them, so I started laughing and crying, “Help me! Help me!” very dramatically. To this day, the children have no idea I was
really
stuck. I truly could not get out of those vines. I was laughing so hard they thought I was kidding. Thankfully, someone came to my house while I was all tied up, heard us laughing in the distance, and came to my rescue. Now
that
was an adventure, and the kids just love to laugh and retell it.

BOOK: The Women of Duck Commander
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ads

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