My grandmother's favorite meal was breakfast. On her farm, she would begin breakfast at daybreak usually by frying bacon or sausage made from the pigs my great uncle raised. I would be laying in bed and the smell of freshly percolating coffee and frying breakfast meats would come wafting in. It was like an olfactory alarm clock.
I thought of Memaw this morning as I sat drinking my coffee and eating my cheese eggs -- always a favorite thing she would fix me. I always remember her using sweetened condensed milk in her coffee. She would slurp it loudly, often letting out a loud sigh of joy and satisfaction.
Out of the fourteen children that was my grandmother's brothers and sisters, only one sibling is left living -- my great aunt Myrtis. She is ninety years old and still lives alone in a little house in God's country. We are wondering how long this will last though. She keeps saying she sees and talks to her sisters and father -- all dead for many years. Her father, Papa, died in 1954.