Aunt Bernice's Eulogy by Cousin Levin

Granny's House For those of you that may not know, we're the grandkids. That means that we are the elite group of folks who were fortunate enough to grow up knowing the true meaning of the word "Granny". If you are here right now, then you know exactly what I am talking about. We could go on for hours telling you things that you already know about Granny. Let me begin with something that you don't know. My Granny had the sharpest fingernails of any human being on Earth. I know this because she used to give us baths when we were little. Things would start out normally enough. You know, scrub between your toes, be sure to get behind the ears. But then there was the horrible ending - the dreaded grand finale when Granny would turn around and reach for the pan under the sink (which later became a pitcher). This was when the crying started. She would put in the shampoo, and she would scrub your scalp with those razor blade fingernails, all the while reassuring us that everything was alright. And of course it was alright. But I can still remember sitting in that tub with images of her telling Kenny and Dennis the same thing 40 years earlier. Sometimes it is hard for us grandkids to think of Granny before she was a granny. But our minds are rich with memories passed down to us from the small army of children who grew up in the Sudderth house long before we came along. For we must remember that before she was Granny, she was"Momma". Each of us has our favorite story of our parents' younger days. Tales of triumph and tragedy, laughter and adventure, and even the occasional run-in with the local authorities. All of these were handled deftly by the dynamic duo of Clyde and Bernice. Cool under pressure, slow to anger, but don't push your luck. We also have to remember that before she was Granny, she was "Aunt Bernice", whose door was never locked, whose kitchen was always stocked and whose yard was no stranger to pickup football games, wrestling matches and more snowball fights than you could count. The nieces and nephews in this room will all tell you that there were few pleasures in life that could match walking into her kitchen and just taking in the aroma of whatever she had cooking. Raise your hand if you have ever tasted our Granny's cooking. Congratulations! Whether it was a full Thanksgiving Dinner with Turkey and all the fixin's or just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich it tasted better just because she made it. Some of the favorites mentioned while we were writing this include meat loaf, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese (with applesauce, of course), those legendary biscuits and at least 7,000 potroasts. It may sound corny to say this, but everything our Granny cooked tasted better because you knew the love that was put into it. I know that for many years the field crew at the Highland Games would fight over her home cooked meals, especially on lasagna night. There was a time, though, in the late '70's when the home built by Clyde and Bernice became "Paw Paw & Granny's". And folks, let me tell you, there is no experience that compared to being one of the grandchildren. Granny's house became a place to hang out, a place to play, a place to eat and of course a place to hide from your parents. On more than one occasion Dennis would stop by looking for Brad. She always covered for him, at least enough for Dennis to cool off.A typical Saturday would start off by coming to Granny's for breakfast, followed by a morning of running around Montezuma looking for something to get into. Then it was back to Granny's for a sandwich and some chips (or tomato soup in the winter time), and then an afternoon of playing in the little patch of woods between Granny and Aunt Thelma's. Then it was back inside for some chicken and biscuits for supper. Sundays were even better. Go to church, then straight to Granny's, where you would eat in the kitchen at the kid's table, or on the deck if the weather was nice. The rest of the day was spent hanging out in the den trying to find ways to hide what you had just broken. And for Mark and I, there were the "covert operations", where we would try to sneak up from the den and follow Granny around the house without her knowing it. I can't tell you how many times we would sneak up and listen in on top-secret phone conversations with Aunt Faye. Christmas. Where do I start? If you happened to be around at Christmastime, you had the pleasure of seeing one of the most meticulously decorated Christmas trees you have ever seen, complete with those legendary little icicles and those big, colored lights. You also had the pleasure of tasting cherry winks, smelling turkey and hearing laughter for hours on end. Beach Trips. A true rite of passage for all of us. If you went with granny, you got to spend your days in the pool while she watched from her lounge chair in those blue shorts and that flowered shirt. Then you had to come in for lunch and wait at least 30 minutes before going to the ocean or you will cramp up. No matter how you knew her, she was always a kind, caring and proud woman. She was always there for basketball games, talent shows, graduations, piano recitals and any other excuse to go out and show off her grandchildren. And she will always be remembered as a woman who would take in those she loved when they needed a place to stay, even at 3:00 in the morning. She took in boarders on more than one occasion, and for that she will be forever remembered. I want to close by sharing a quote that was sent to me by a dear friend of mine just the other day. I feel that it sums up the Christian humility and grace that my Granny showed throughout her life. "I long to accomplish great and noble tasks, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker."Thank you, Granny, for each tiny push. I love you.

Tough Decisions

There are those moments in time when you just wonder. You ask yourself "What if I had?..." You ponder what has to be done and deep in your heart you know when it's time. You fight the urge to cry out and you think can I save this? Is the outcome worth the penalty, is the reward as good as it seems to be? Do I take that chance once again? Do I give it all I got to save what I have or do I drop it and take a shot at that one thing that I want so bad? After thinking about it I think I will stay with the old, forsaking the new. I pull the cat out of the bag and I look down with sweat running down into my eyes. My breathing is faster, my heartbeat is out of control and I just did what I came for. I strike with the force of greatness with every muscle in my body watching and waiting to see how far it can go before being stopped by that tight fescue. Will it spin back to my goal? Will I achieve my dream with this one that I have kissed so many times prior to extacy? then there it goes ever so fast, I cringe as I wonder if I went too far to come back now. But then it happens, the greatness is revealed as my Titlist Golf ball falls in the hole. C'mon, you knew I was talking about a whole in one, right? Don't you just love golf?