My Grandparents George and Geneva Sykes
on their 25th wedding Anniversary 1947
Some of my favorite memories were spent with my grandparents at their farm in Parma MI. The ride to Parma was just right for a nice Sunday afternoon. It wouldn't be very long before we'd be pulling into the driveway lined with Peonies. When I was small the house looked huge. I loved it. Grandma and Grandpa would meet us on the porch with hellos and hugs. Grandma always wearing one of her best Sunday dresses and one of her good Sunday aprons.
I don't remember seeing grandma without an apron unless she was heading to Church or the grocery store. She had everyday aprons. Sunday aprons, Holiday aprons and even aprons she wore working out in the garden. I don't remember her ever wearing pants. I think she may have in the winter when they still had the cows, but I never saw her in anything but dresses.
Grandma, My aunt Lenora, Mom, Dad, and us kids.
Sunday dinner with grandma and grandpa was always a big treat. Grandpa would usually have charge of us while the women finished preparing the meal. Apparently they didn't like us kids running in and out of the kitchen. Grandma had a wooden swinging door from the dinning area (see above) into the kitchen. It swung both ways and was a very real temptation for us kids.
Grandpa would take us on a walking tour of the yard and the barn. We were never allowed in the barn by ourselves. The cows had been gone for years and there were holes in the floor that we may or may not see. The old hay still covered most of the floor and he was afraid we'd get hurt on the loose boards. I loved that old barn and it's smell. Grandpa still stored hay up in the loft. I loved to watch him during haying putting the hay on the conveyor and up in the loft.
Sometimes Grandpa would get out the tractor and take us on a ride down the lanes. Grandpa didn't grow crops anymore, but he did let some guys cut the hay off the fields and he let folks hunt there if they stopped and asked permission.
Blackberries grew in the lane. I remember grandmother giving grandpa a pail and asking for him to pick some berries and bring them back up to the house. She also gave us the "strict grandma" look and said for us not to eat any of the berries. We'd ruin our dinner. We all promised not to eat even one berry and ran out the back letting the wooden door whack. (a favorite sound of mine) We headed to the tractor and rode straight to the patch. Grandpa told us we better make sure the berries were good, so we would need to eat a few. Well you know what little kids smashing blackberries in our mouths would look like. Yep.. berry juice staining our mouths, hands, and I'll bet our clothes too.
We never returned to the house without picking a nice bunch of wild flowers for grandma. When we returned to the house that day we marched in the kitchen with a bucket full of blackberries, a big bunch of flowers and big grins. She looked right at us and asked if we ate any berries. We quickly looked at grandpa.. he got the biggest grin on his face, winked at us, and we all said.. " oh no grandma, we didn't eat any berries".. LOL she started laughing and sent us to wash our hands and get to the table.
Sunday dinners were always at the large dinning table. table pads were added. Tablecloths were placed along with napkins, dishes, silverware and real glass glasses. Something we were never allowed to use at home. We were always instructed to make sure to hold our glasses with both hands. There was always some type of Jello salad with vegetables (mostly carrots and or celery) served on a bed of lettuce on a salad plate brought to the table first. My mouth was about table high.. so it slid in pretty good. I never did care for veggies in my jello, but you always ate what was put in front of you, and boy was the food put in front of us. Plates full of Roast beef or Fried chicken, Mashed potatoes with gravy, some corn and maybe peas. Grandma canned and froze everything. so it was all homemade and very yummy. Then when the dishes were cleared the cake or pie grandma made earlier in the day was brought out with coffee for the adults and more milk for us kids.
Grandpa was always worried that we weren't eating enough. He would make sure we had an extra serving or two of some dinner item and then would make sure grandmother cut our piece of pie a bit bigger then it should have been. After dinner the rest of the dishes were cleared and all of us women would head to the kitchen to do the dishes. I would stand on a box in the kitchen and rinse the silverware and wipe it. That was my job. Then I was off to play with grandpa on the big swing in the front yard.
soon enough we'd head off home. Once we were a mile or two from from grandmas we'd have to stop so us kids could throw up. LOL I remember the day my papa had to tell grandpa we just couldn't eat that much food. Our bellies were just to little.
Dad, mom, Keith, and I
Those were some of the most vivid and wonderful memories I have of my grandparents. Sunday dinners were something. They were an important part of the family. If we went for the weekend we'd go to Church. My grandparents lived just down the road from the little Methodist Church. We would walk on nice days. One of Grandpa's jobs was to ring the bell. It alerted the families in the area it was time to start heading to Church. One of my brother's favorite moments was when grandpa let him ring the bell.
My grandmother played the organ for the service. When I was older I would practice with the choir for a few minutes before service. Grandma always made sure I had a hankie. Then out I would go and sing just like I did it every Sunday. The choir members loved it. Well they acted like they did.
Every family gathered on Sunday for a very similar dinner. Maybe there were no table pads, or tablecloths, or fancy jello salads. But there was family gathered to share their day. I really miss those dinners. Now families seem to gather at the local restaurants if they gather at all. I know lives are busy and fixing a big meal when you are busy with Church and kids and such may not be practical. I understand that a trip to the local Bob Evans or KFC is a nice break for mom. But I wonder how much we have really given up. Those walks with grandpa were precious. Grandma letting me help rinse the silverware even when it would have been much easier for her to do it herself was important. I wonder what part of that special relationship we may be letting slip away..
I'll never forget those wonderful Sunday dinners. I hope you have many wonderful memories of Sunday dinners and If you haven't had one lately call your family together. Make them put their phones and ipods away. gather them up around the table and let them share some good roast beef, Or KFC.. what you are eating is not nearly as important as what you are saying to each other....
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