Legacy — the long lasting impact of particular events or actions that took place in the past or of a person’s life.
Legacy is a word that conjures up famous people of the past like, Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Teresa, Marie Curie, and even others like Elvis and Lady Diana are some that made lesser contributions but yet left legacies. I, in my own selfish way, also want to leave a legacy — a passionate memory for my children when I leave this world.
I was blessed growing up to have been raised knowing my great-grandmother, Liza Jane Key. She was a tiny little woman, maybe 5 feet tall and weighing a 100 pounds if she carried rocks in her pockets. She had her place, her rocking chair and her own spot sitting on the side of my grandmother's fireplace. She wore a long dress, an apron with a pocket and a small short-ribbed bonnet over her thin gray hair. The one thing I remember most about her was her little Garrett Snuff can and her chewed sweet gum stick in her little pocket. She would always ask one of the grandchildren to break her off a piece of a sweet gum stick about 4 inches long and ask us to chew the end, as she had no teeth, so she could dip it in her snuff several times a day.
Then there was my grandmother, Edna Beatrice, also short but sturdy and one of the strongest persons I ever knew, not in strength but in fortitude. She birthed nine children with no prenatal care, no epidural injection, and no hospital. Sometimes a doctor would assist but most of the time it was a friend or neighbor that would come aid. She withstood the horrendous loss of two little boy babies, one during birth and one at 2 years old.
Next generation was my mother, Mary Lois. She was a hardened woman because of the life she was given. We were extremely poor, and she always had to work outside the home, in a factory as she had only an eighth grade education, to put food on the table. I remember her washing in a wringer type machine and helping her hang the clothes outside by a floodlight after her already working an eight-hour shift. Life was not easy for her in her day, and she tried as hard as she could to give us kids a stable home with love.
Now here I am pondering as to what I will leave my children and grandchildren as a legacy. I have birthed children but certainly different from my grandmothers. I've never picked cotton, or grown all of our food, or stood beside my husband as he toiled the land to provide for our family. I've never worked in a hot factory or scrubbed clothes on a washboard down at an overflowing spring as my grandmother did. I have a good education not having just eighth grade to be finished. These women left me with a legacy of value, value of a life well-lived, no matter the circumstances, and love. They left me with knowing how to love my family when nothing else would suffice.
I am a fair-to-good cook. I can paint a decent picture in acrylic and water. I love to write and tell stories. However, many people claim these qualities but if I can choose the legacy I leave behind it would be this, “I’m a painter, a writer, a poet and I carry a suitcase full of blessings.” And I will love you past ETERNITY.
Cheesy Chicken and Rice
1½ cups of long grain rice
1 envelope of onion soup mix
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1 can cream of mushroom soup
2 cups of milk
2 cups of chicken broth
salt and pepper
Four halved deboned chicken breasts
Mix soups, milk, broth, rice, and cheese on low heat, and meld all together. Pour into a 9-by-13-inch serving dish and cook at 350 degrees for two hours. Top with cheese when done.
