Mamaw Pilkenton

Below is what I wrote and then spoke at my Mamaw Pilkenton's funeral on Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Mamaw Pilkenton (Arlenia Rose Pilkenton)

By: Brandi Cade

Many of you may be wondering why I’m the one speaking today. As a matter of fact, you may be thinking just because I’m the oldest grandchild, I wasn’t here on a day to day basis like some of you so I don’t have a right. But I’m here and I’m speaking. I’m speaking today in celebration of life. You see love knows no limits, no boundaries. Memories are made whether you are with someone all the time or occasionally. I stand before you today to share a story; a story of a life that touched each and every one of us sitting in this room.

Hans Christian Anderson once said, “A human life is a story told by God.” The Bible reminds us in Psalm 107:2 “Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story---those he redeemed from the hand of the foe.”

There is no way for me to know the entire story. As a matter of fact there are many details to this story, this life, that I can’t possibly know because those details are carried inside each and every one of you. They are locked away inside your own memories for you to relive in your times of need.

Let us pray….

Lord, we come to you today in celebration of a life. The life of Arlenia Rose Pilkenton. While we are crying earthly tears of sorrow, help us to feel your comforting arms around us. Lord, I ask that you be with me as I share the story I know of my Mamaw’s life and that you open up each and every heart and mind this evening to the parts of the story they know. To their own special memories that may have been locked away waiting for the right moment to resurface so that we may realize that although Mamaw’s earthly body is being laid to rest, she is still here among us by the way she touched each of our lives.

In your Son’s precious name we pray, AMEN.

I can’t even begin to imagine what life was like for Mamaw, but it’s those details that made her the person she was. From losing her mom at such a young age to living with numerous brothers and sisters. From raising 5 amazing children to mourning the loss of those she never really got to know and mother.

You see I don’t own any of those memories, but many of you do. I invite you to close your eyes, take a deep breath, and remember. Remember the sister you grew up loving and maybe even disliking at times. Remember the mother, aunt, or friend you know and love.

Now hear the part of the story that I know. I’m sure many of you will share similar memories. As you listen and remember, know that it’s okay to smile, laugh, and yes, even cry. You see Mamaw would want us to sit here and celebrate her life knowing she’s no longer in pain, knowing that she is rejoicing in her new heavenly body with the spirit we all know and love.

Picture it, a grandmother , you know the one who spoils kids rotten, bakes cookies, and is your typical storybook grandma….now erase all that because Mamaw was NOT your typical storybook grandma.

Instead of spoiled grandchildren, ah, who am I kidding we were all spoiled and loved, but we also had rules to follow. We toed the line ‘cause if we didn’t, she threatened to “Bust our hind ends.” Oh sure some grands crossed the line, but we all had a respect for Mamaw’s rules. And if you were caught doing something, “Busted.” Mamaw also expected her kids to follow rules even though they were grown, married, and out of her house. The grands loved to rile her up by sharing that their dad said a cuss word. Oh how we’d giggle about the fact that she was going to ‘bust their hind ends.’

I would love to be able to share of a time when I got in trouble, but I toed the line and was usually just in during the summer and a short time around Christmas.

But here’s what I do remember…FOOD! I loved seeing those large orange Tupperware containers come out of the pantry. It meant biscuits. It also meant I got to climb up on the barstool and help cut them out with a glass. She would coat the counter with flour, roll out the dough, sprinkle more flour on top, and we would cut. As the glass pressed in, puffs of flour would rise in the air. The best breakfast food was soon to follow----- sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, and biscuits. No one makes biscuits quite like Mamaw’s.

And let’s not forget about green beans while I’m talking about food. She never could quite understand how you could eat, let alone like, green beans from a can bought at a store (you know who you are). I never did get to learn the canning side, but I loved to help her snap those beans. Anytime I snap beans now, I’m taken back to sitting in her house with her. Good memories.

And for some grands there’s her pumpkin pie. She had a few grandsons who would fight over her pies. It got so bad that she started making a pie for each of them. And try as they might, no other person could replicate those pumpkin pies….even using her exact same recipe, exact same brand of ingredients.

Close your eyes and picture the foods that remind you of her. Breathe in and take a moment to savor the scent, enjoy the taste.

You remember how I said to erase that typical grandma image from your mind---well, I meant it. A storybook grandma is usually old and maybe a little boring. Not Mamaw.

Nap times at her place were magical. Back then I loved when we would snuggle up on her bed and she would tell stories. Stories of wolves, the boogeyman, the sandman. I don’t recall if I ever fell asleep during those times, but I do recall she was a great story teller because I believed her.

If she still had the house she lived in when I was little, I doubt I would go into that basement even today. To make sure we grandkids wouldn’t go near the basement door and try to go down there, she had us believing the boogeyman lived down there. I can remember playing outside and we would dare each other to try to look into the basement windows to catch a glimpse. Can’t say we ever got close too many times, but if we did we convinced the others we saw the boogeyman.

Sleepovers at her house were always the best. You see, typical grandmas would sleep on their own beds but not Mamaw. Depending on how many slept over, there might be people sleeping all over the living room and foyer. She would set up that huge sofa bed and lay out foam pads all over the floor. And she would sleep right down there with us.

On those occasions we would also sing and dance through the house. She would even let me have a friend sleep over because for the longest time there were mostly boy grandchildren. We would have on MTV or VH1…for those who don’t know, those stations really used to play music videos almost all day. I still recall dancing through her house to “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” over and over. A song I still dance to today.

Let’s not forget about the evenings though. We grandkids would spend hours chasing lightning bugs and she was right out there with us. She even brought out a canning jar with a lid with holes in the top to capture them in.

And there was also june bugs---catching those things, tying a string to one of its legs, and letting it fly.

Man those were fun times.

I hope one day my own grands will be able to hold such memories as those.

Mamaw also enjoyed crocheting. She taught me how one summer and thanks to technology….Google and YouTube…I’ve been able to relearn. Everytime I see a crocheted blanket or doll, I always think of her. A crocheted blanket almost always graced the back of a couch or bed in her home. I’m sure that she taught many of you something that you can hang on to in your memories as well. Take a moment to think. What did she teach you? What did you learn from her?

And then there’s family. I don’t know who all’s houses she took me too, but I remember it was fun. As a kid I had no clue what the grownups were up to because there was always a slew of cousins and other kids to play with during those visits. After I was grown I got to sit in with the grownups and let me tell you, they were a hoot. No wonder they didn’t let the kids in on their conversations. To watch Mamaw and her sisters carrying on, joking and picking on each other, reminiscing about the good ole days. That was a treat. I swear I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard as when I would sit in with them. I bet she’s up in Heaven now laughing, carrying on, and having a good ole time. And we should too.

Family was important to her….how could it not be given that she raised a large one and came from one that was even larger? She would want each of us to carry on as family should. Sure, she may have been the matriarch, the one whose home was where everyone gathered, but now she’s gone. And despite that fact, we can still carry on. She would want us to still get together, visit, and find time to slow things down a bit in this fast paced world.

As I near the end of the story (or rather walk down memory lane) that I know, I want us all to remember that above all, she was a Christian. I loved when I spent the night on a Saturday because that meant I got to see her get ready for church the next morning. As a young child I was fascinated by her shoes….maybe it was because they were heels and all other days she wore flat shoes. Or maybe it was the dresses.

At church she mostly sat with us grandchildren, but there were some times she would sing with the choir. Now those are precious memories. Unless you’ve lived any large amount of time away from here you may not realize that the church singing in these parts is very distinct---that sweet Appalachian sound. I still find myself singing and humming lines from some of the songs she sang….

…..from having a little talk with Jesus

….to no tears in Heaven faire, no tears, no tears up there. Sorrow and pain will all have flown….

And so many more. Mamaw put her trust in the Lord and that part of her life, that part of her story has touched many whether she knew it or not.

Jenna Pilkenton, one of her great granddaughters will now sing:

          Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true

With Thanksgiving, I’ll be a living sanctuary for you.

I exalt thee, I exalt thee, I exalt thee, Oh, Lord

I exalt thee, I exalt thee, I exalt thee, Oh, Lord

Lord prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true

With Thanksgiving, I’ll be a living sanctuary for you.

This is only part of Mamaw’s story, part of her life. I hope that as I spoke you were able to recall some of your own personal memories that are part of her story as well. As you get together over the next few days, weeks, months, and years I ask that you share your stories of her with each other. Mamaw was a spirited lady who spoke her mind, loved her family, and would want nothing more than for us to love unconditionally and keep on living.

           I love and miss you Mamaw, but your memory remains alive and well.

Now….Scat Tom, get your tail out the gravy.