When I was young, and until her death, my grandmother, Alice Montgomery Carrico, was the matriarch of our family.  My grandfather, Joseph Reuben  Carrico died when I was four years old, in March of 1961, at the age of 76.  I have no memories of him, just what my mother has told me.  She loved him dearly.  As he aged his hearing wasn’t what it once was, and mother talked of sitting with him to watch ‘the fights’ – wrestling matches – and she would tell him what was going on.  Yet, if they whispered something he always heard their secrets!

Grandmother Alice was a beautiful woman, very short, very round, who loved to cook and eat!  The family lived through the Depression and WWII years when food was sometimes hard to come by, but they always had plenty to eat.  They lived on their farm of 15 acres where they grew crops and a large garden, as well as raising hogs and chickens.  My grandmother hooked up her buggy and drove to Springfield to sell extra eggs and butter (beautifully decorated with indented leaves and flowers) to supplement their income.

When I was born Grandmother Alice was 64.  My mother was next to the youngest child so there were already ten grandchildren – 9 boys and one girl – when I was born in 1957.  I remember how soft her cheek was when we kissed her.  I remember the glorious meals she made, especially her baked chicken and dressing that she cooked in an iron skillet in the oven.  I remember sitting on the porch with her – and her watching as we climbed a tree in the front yard or rolled down the little hill. 

Grandmother lived across the street from an outdoor movie theater.  Every Fourth of July we would gather on her porch to watch the fireworks they set off after the movie.  We were so close we could hear the loud swoosh when the fuse was lit, and it rose to the sky.  Even writing this, so many years later, I have tears in my eyes thinking about those wonderful memories.

Alice had beautiful roses around her front porch, and we loved to go around to each bush and smell the lovely scents.  And there was a cherry tree in the backyard where my sister and I would climb and eat the cherries right from the tree!  And I remember birds swooping in to try to get their share!

I loved spending several days with grandmother.  She loved to play cards and watch The Lawrence Welk Show.  Those are happy memories of a one-on-one time spent with her.

Grandmother passed away February 25, 1986, at the remarkable age of 92.  My mother visited that morning.  Grandmother was eating breakfast and had taken the oxygen out of her nose to ‘enjoy her food’.  My mother thought it was horrible – I thought it amazing.  She was still ‘living’ until the very end.  And she quietly passed away that evening.

After grandmother’s death my mother became the matriarch of our family.  Again, mother lived a long, wonderful life, though not quite as long as my grandmother.  Mother loved her family – her five children and ten grandchildren.  Mother always met you at the door with a hug and offers of food – are you hungry, what can I fix you?  The kitchen was the hub in our family, and even after meals we sat at the table to play cards or games.  In good weather we sat on the front porch in the swing, having great conversations and lots of laughs. 

My dad passed away at the age of 50, so like her mother, mom was a widow for over 25 years.  As the grandchildren came along, I loved watching our family develop into what was ‘Gran’s Family’ – as my children called her.  Easter egg hunts, Christmas’s together, Friday night card games with her neighbors.  How I miss those times.

Each birthday for her, a child or grandchild was celebrated with cake and a present.  Those milestones were always remembered.  Her chili on a cold evening was always delicious.  She loved to make muffins – many times she would call as I was leaving work (I was finance officer for the local school) to tell me she had just taken muffins out of the oven and coffee was perking!

Mother loved to garden, and until she was older, produced many vegetables.  When we were young and at home the freezer was always full and the shelves my dad made in the basement were stocked with canned tomatoes, apple butter, green beans, etc.

My mother died in March 2014 after several falls.  The last day she was conscious she had my sister call, and told me to come visit that night.  I did, and we had a wonderful time, although I believe she thought I was her older sister.  That didn’t matter.  I knew she loved me and I loved her.  And we said ‘I love you’ at the same time at the end of the visit.  That was our last time together.

After her death, as the oldest child (and daughter) I became the matriarch.  The one  my siblings look to if there is a decision to be made and who to come to in need.  I try to be worthy of this title, as I know life is not always easy, and sometimes you just need to talk things out and hard decisions must be made.  Our home has always been a place where family and friends gather.  I love cooking and feeding people as much as my mother and grandmother!  A dinner for five turned into one for twenty-five – no problem! And I am more than willing to console, advise and offer a shoulder when the need arises.

Who will take over when I am gone?  My daughter is fully up to the job already.  But I’m not ready to give up the title for a long time!

What do you remember about the matriarchs in your family?