Last week as I scanned Facebook, the below post caught my attention:

John Paul Dove touched my heart with his words:

I’m having one of those days where I would give anything to be able to sit at the counter of my grandmother’s kitchen with a glass of iced tea and be able to cry while her sweet hand patted the back of mine and prayed for me like only she could. I’m a middle age, grown man, but my heart sometimes breaks like a kid who just wants his grandmother.

Perhaps I took a second read because my grandma had also been on my mind that day. You see, although she passed through those Pearly Gates in 1983, there are times when my iPhone rings and I think, “Maybe that’s grandma.”

Oh, silly me. First off, an iPhone would be like living on Mars, as far as she was concerned. All she knew, and all she needed, was the old black phone which sat on a tiny telephone table in the hallway and as well the straight-back wood chair pulled close by as she dispersed expert advice to all she loved.

The words were just what we needed.

It might be a few words about the weather followed by updates on all of the family. Then would come her lunch menu. My daddy ate lunch with her often. Also there were other times when the luncheon invitation call came to me. That call would arrive prior to 10 a.m. and the words would flow out. “Thought maybe you can come eat dinner (she called lunch dinner) with me today, if you have time?”

And I always had time. I mean it was grandma. I saw her as often as I could. That’s what good grandchildren do.

And on those lunch days with grandma sometimes the menu items were sort of weird like, liver and lights, gizzard stew, tripe, and poke salad, adding wild onions picked from the yard. All these years later I now understand just what I was really eating at the time. But it was the food was on grandma’s table loving prepared by her hands, and it was good. Besides I would never disrespect her by turning my heard, rejecting her cuisine, not then, not now.

I am just saying, if my iPhone rang today and grandma said, “Come eat gizzard stew with me,” then I would hold my nose and go with a loving heart, because it was an invitation from grandma.

I remember a few times when grandma said to anyone listening, “If you don’t like my supper table, then go to Mr. Weidmann’s.” You see she had never been and on her 80th birthday, my family and I took her there for Sunday lunch.

I can see her today in my mind’s eye as she was dressed in a mint green (her favorite color) dress with little white flowers (a Sunday dress) and as she sat meek and small among the peanut butter crocks, white tablecloth and complete settings of silverware, including white napkins as well with a sweet flower placed in the center that perhaps she felt as though she was in a dream. But her big blue eyes were wide and alert. Yes, she had finally been to Mr. Weidmann’s.

Yet, I feel as though she was only in her element when cooking the meal and “waiting” on the table. She never ate until everyone else was served.

And so last week when I read John Paul’s post, I was right there with him. Actually his heartfelt post told me a lot about him although we’ve never met. I know we are kindred spirits, that memories tug at our hearts and we hold dear to our grandmas. That’s a good thing.

My dear friends, if your grandma is still here, please take lunch with her soon or perhaps you will one day regret those lost moments. Regret is a terrible thing.

Anne B McKee is a native Meridianite, Mississippi historian and Director of the annual Rose Hill Cemetery Costumed Tour and Director of Meridian Downtown History Walk. See her website: www.annemckeestoryteller.com