Rosalind "Sooky" Malphrus

The same weekend as all of our snow my Meema passed away. She had not been doing well for a few months. After two weary-ing hospitalizations in January we knew her body was getting tired. She was in Hospice care for a week and we were all able to visit (in person & over the phone) and tell her good-bye. We had a wonderful memorial service that truly celebrated a life well lived. So many family members and friends were able to come. It was a beautiful day. At the service I was able to share a tiny bit of what it was like to have a grandmother like Meema.

When I think of Meema several things come to mind. Lasagna, banana bread, and The Lawrence Welk Show to name a few. She was a wonderful story-teller. I remember her telling about the first time she met Pappa. They both attended a BSU event at Furman while she was a student at Winthrop and he was at Clemson. She was in a group of girls and Pappa came over and started talking to them all. While they were swapping introductions a freshman from Clemson that Meema knew came up to them and she walked away with him. Pappa felt snubbed that this girl would walk off with a "rat" while he, an upperclassman, was there. But that was what Meema was about...it wasn't important who you were, what mattered was who you were to her.

She always had time for her grandchildren. She would make our favorite foods when we came to visit...mine was Sloppy Joes. She also made sure to have our favorite sugar filled breakfast cereal in the pantry...something we did not have at home. She made us feel special and welcomed. True, there were only three of us grandkids but I know she treated all her guests like favorite grandchildren.

She was one of my favorite people to get "the giggles" with. We would usually get tickled over something Pappa had done. She was also willing to laugh at herself...a trait I think I've inherited from her. I recall her retelling a story about going fishing with Pappa at night while wearing a dark jacket. Pappa got excited about catching fish and while attempting to maneuver the boat to a better position whacked Meema in the face with the paddle. While she forgave him and was eventually able to laugh about it, she never let him forget what he had done. I'm pretty sure she didn't wear that jacket again!

She always encouraged me to be a lady, and to her eternal credit did not think it was a lost cause. Her instructions ranged from keeping your shoes off the furniture to never, EVER using a toothpick in public. She would let you know exactly what she thought about something. I remember her coming to one of my horse shows and while she was impressed with my riding and pleased with my performance she pointed out that she did not like the horse I was riding. It was gray and made her think of an old gray nag.

She was patient. After her stroke in 2000 she "lost her verbs". She would want to tell me something but because of her aphasia could not say the words. We would go through question after question after question and I know I was the worst at figuring out what she wanted or needed. My mom and Elizabeth were much better at knowing what she was trying to say. She would be trying to tell me that she was out of toothpaste and I would think she was asking if I had on new shoes. But she never threw up her hand in frustration or shook her head at my complete lack of understanding.

She was the consummate hostess. She loved having people over. While it is true that she would prefer to know you were coming it was OK if you just dropped in. I was helping her set the table for a dinner party one time and she showed me the correct way to fold and place the napkin so that you could in one smooth motion, with one hand, pick up the napkin and place it in your lap. I had never even thought about streamlining napkin placement much less noticed if I was able to unfold and place it in my lap with one hand. She reigned over details like that.

She was so gracious. These past nine years were tough for her. She was unable to participate in family functions like she desired. Yet she never got bitter or angry. She was always there willing to watch and listen. She had such a sweet spirit and was happy to just be with friends and family and soak up the quality time. It was an honor to be her granddaughter.