Born on February 14th, 1911, Ina Mae Laird, fondly know as Inie, entered this world. At the age of 9 she and her dad began taking long walks in the woods and shared the joys of smoking a corn cob pipe. She later on swapped from the pipe to Garrett's snuff, which she continued to enjoy, until she passed away a virgin at the ripe old age of 93.
She stood about 5';4" and her hair, which came almost to her waist, was kept plaited, and put into a bun on the back of her head. Her legs never felt the warmth of a pair of pants, as wearing pants was a sin, but she always wore a thick pair of stockings that always seemed to be rolled right below her knee. Sometimes her dresses covered the stockings and sometimes they didn't. She had one eye that was a little crossed so outwardly she wasn't a beauty queen, but inside lay a heart of gold.
Although she was born on Valentine's day, she never experienced the kiss of a man, and never seemed to regret that fact. She was courted a couple of times, once by a known alcoholic, which she promptly chased off with a broom stick. She was happy in her own little world, and didn't care if she ever left the house. She attended church every Sunday, and Wednesday night prayer meetings, but other than that she complained if she had to go anywhere.
Mom worked a full time job, sometimes double shifts, and Aunt Inie saw to the washing of the clothes, the dishes, and watching after us kids when we came in from school (she survived 8 of us).
Like most homemakers she sometimes got lonely, which is why, I suspect, she let me stay home from school occassionaly to watch Captain Kangaroo, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Family Affair. I was happy to see my favorite shows and she was happy to have company.
I can still see her hand fly to her mouth to catch the Garrett's snuff dripping out the side as she tried to stifle a giggle, which she did quite often.
Some man, somewhere, missed a beautiful wife, and I'm glad he did.
Rest in Peace Inie Mae Laird, you may be gone, but not forgotten.
Eleanor Rigby... all the lonely people, where doooo they all come from? So sad. You really made her come alive, good job! I have a diary of someone who knew Grandma. She wrote about having to eat alone on her birthday, I think it was her 84th. Then she kept listing the deaths of her friends as they happened. Made me cry.
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