Several days this week I’ve kept my two grandsons, Baker 8 and Parks, almost 6, who are out of school and didn’t have a day camp — instead they had “Grammy camp.” Being with them reminded me of when I stayed with Grandma Smith and when Mama, “Grandma Rosser” kept my sons, Brooks and Ross on summer days. It’s an interesting comparison to look at how those days are alike and different over three generations, from the 60s to the 90s to 2026.

My Grandma Smith lived in rural Harnett County. We would visit her on Sunday afternoons and each June I’d spend a week with her — before tobacco harvesting began in July. I remember feeling a lonesome, pre-homesick feeling when Mama and Daddy pulled away. My biggest hope was that my cousins, who lived just down the road, would be home that week. The days at Grandma Smith’s could be long for a child; getting up before 7:00, only a small black-and-white television with poor reception, having to listen to a long Bible reading before a mouthful of eggs and sausage, tuning in with Grandma to the 1:00 radio obituaries as we finished our lunch — which we called “dinner” back then. My favorite chore in the morning was helping Grandma in her flower garden. She taught me the names of each plant. Later I did the simple tasks of washing dishes and sweeping her linoleum floors. Sometimes I’d get to play with my cousins once the chores were done.

Few cars came down the narrow-lane road in front of Grandma’s house and when they did it was worthy of attention. Occasionally a fellow church member would stop by to chat or buy a dozen eggs which my Aunt Eloise, who lived with Grandma, would have gathered. A highlight of the day was the mailman’s stop there on Rural Route 3, Lillington. It was a short walk to her mailbox at the edge of the drive and I volunteered to get it since it seemed like the highlight of the day. If we were lucky, there would be a thunderstorm and we would hear the rain while sitting on her covered front porch, or I could curl up with a book for lazy afternoons; there were more of those at Grandma’s than at my house where the list of chores was endless.

At the beginning of my stay, the week ahead seemed to stretch out to forever; but as the week passed, as I relaxed into the rhythm of a simple country day, the stay with Grandma was coming to an end too quickly. I liked having one-to-one time with her. She’d ask me questions about what she’d read aloud from the Bible. She seemed to really listen to what I said — more than most adults. She had twenty grandchildren and to have her individual attention, all to myself, was special.

Grandma Smith was the typical old-fashioned version of a “Granny” from her day. Born in 1891, she looked the same all my life in her shirt waist dresses and “Granny Comfort” shoes.

My mother also lived in the country, but it wasn’t as remote as Grandma Smith’s home — plus Mama drove. Still my boys spent time on the farm where I was raised. By the nineties, when they stayed with Grandma Rosser, her garden was limited but her yard was huge. My son, Brooks, who would later become a Golf Course Superintendent, was so happy when she let him drive her riding lawn mower. Not long ago, Brooks shared one of his memories of that experience.

“You know, Mom, Grandma Rosser made me read the Safety Instructions for her lawn mower before she’d let me on it,” he said and chuckled. She was always very safety conscious!

My boys were fortunate that their cousins lived in sight of Grandma Rosser so they had kids to play with, too. They all talk about how Mama’s freezer had plenty of Breyer’s Ice Cream (her favorite was Butter Pecan) and Freeze Pops to offer her seven grandchildren. They loved that she would join them in a game of soft ball. She even did an oil painting of her brick ranch with them playing in her front yard and cut out photos of each grandchild to work into the painting.

Now, I remember the examples of Grandma Smith and Mama, “Grandma Rosser” and the things that were special about summer days with each. Raising two sons, and now having two grandsons, I know they have to have a fast-paced day that appeals to boys. This week we’ve gone to the trampoline park and to the soccer field to get out their energy.

They’ve played basketball inside with a goal mounted on a door that has a battery operated scoreboard and crowd applause — which they love. I try to give them quiet options, too like the table filled with art supplies and today Baker and I made blueberry popsicles. It reminded me of how Grandma Smith would make a dewberry cobbler with berries from a nearby field.

I’ve almost given up on Safety Instructions, like “Don’t run with food in your mouth” and “Be careful on those monkey bars” because before I can say the words, it’s done.

Tonight as I write this, I’m tired from a busy day with my grandsons. We had moments when their behavior was quite a challenge, and others, when their sweetness made my heart swell. Overall, I’m thankful that I have these times with them and can remember the previous eras in our family of grandmas with their grandchildren.

I hope that one day, this legacy will live on and my grandsons will be grandfathers making special memories with the next generation.

Blessings to you all,

Connie